I'm Still Here
by theonlyxception
Summary: She thought she was ready, but something brings forth what she never thought would hit her. And now she will need to rely on her friends to help her along. Megan Reeves.
1. Just a Thought

Looking up from his desk, Megan stood from her chair and grabbed her coat from off the back of her chair. Her hand was shaking slightly. _Not like her_. "Going home?" Don asked considerately, brow raised, he got up from his own chair and put on his own coat.

Wrapping her scarf around her neck, she tucked it into her coat. "Yeah. It'll be so good to go home and sleep." Pulling her keys out from her coat she grasped them tightly as she held them in her hand. "I'm thinking I'm not going to be able to sleep on the plane."

He nodded and the thought clicked, "Yeah, I forgot about that. What time is your flight?"

Gazing at her watch, she found it to already be a quarter past eleven. "At five."

Don raised his eyebrow, clearly concerned. It was already very late. "In the morning?"

"Yeah." Her gaze shifts to her keys as she loops her finger through the key ring. "I was thinking the faster that I get there, the less time I have to change my mind." Nodding, he tilts his head only to catch her quite pale complexion. Walking past the empty cubicles, they walk side by side to the elevator.

Her hand reaches out to the call button. S_till shaking; _his concern is increasing. She feels his concern, but feels relief in the silence. "What?" Megan asks simply, addressing his concern.

"Nothing, it's just that I've been watching for the past few minutes..."

"And I've been watching you watch me." She teased lightly, although good natured.

"Yeah, well I'm just a little concerned that's all." Megan raised her brow, the elevator doors slid open.

Putting his hand on the frame of the door, she stepped in first then joined her. Adjusting her coat he watches him press the button that would bring them to the ground floor.

"Although I appreciate the concern, it's probably just nerves. I haven't seen nor talked to my father for at least ten years." She raised her eyebrow, although silently admitting in her mind not knowing whether this was really nerves and if sleep would really help in this case.

Nodding, he stopped to realize how lucky he was. To be working side by side with his brother; to be living so close to his father. And yet he had never stopped to really reach out to her. In fact her words rang true when he realized how much he had been pushing her away; in fact she had strictly been shifting herself to pulling later shifts, often being the last one to leave at night, or was pulling all-nighters.

He didn't have any reason not to trust her; knew that she was always looking out for him. Diving right in without any reason not to she had taken control in order to get a little boy back, while he had been forced to turn off his phone after it had rang during the middle of his therapy session. And by the time that he had gotten back to the office, they had returned the boy back to his father. And that had been just another day at the FBI. With that he found them sitting around, happier than he had ever seen the team, and her.

The door to the elevator opened bringing him out of his thoughts as he watched her step out. He caught up to her just as they ran into David. "Hey Don, Megan" He greeted, "I think I just got a lead that I think we may be able to use. Marcos Demos wasn't where we thought he was when his wife disappeared"

Megan stepped back as Don took a look at the file David was holding in hand. Both David and Don gazed up to look up at her, keys still in her hand. "Crack of the alibi." She took another step back. "I would love to join in, but I have to catch a flight—"Taking another look at her watch, it had only gotten later. "In almost five hours"

A smile appeared on David's face. "Yeah, I remember you mentioning something about that. When are you coming back?"

"I should be back by Friday night. But I'm not scheduled to come back to work until the following Monday." David nodded, watching her walk back slowly towards the door. Offering a goodbye by the wave of her hand she made her way out the front door.


	2. Conclusions

When she had finally got home, she unwrapped her scarf and closed the door. Her hand went over the light on the stand. As she turned the knob the room lit up, she exhaled seeing the suitcase that she had placed there earlier that morning. Shaking her coat off, she placed her coat in the closet and walked up the stairs. It was already well past midnight now and she was well past exhausted.

Walking down the hall, she reached her bedroom—the door creaking as she entered. A small lamp on her nightstand glowed faintly beside her clock. And the last thing she remembered was her setting her alarm, lying down on her bed, and then she was out.

It almost seems too soon when four hours later her alarm graces the early morning. Her hand aimlessly hits the snooze button and a few moments later she forces herself up. The semi light but darkened sky creeps through the frame of her blinds as she throws back her covers and she stands up and stretches.

She knows that she's going to need some coffee if she's going to function on what would probably be the third day of lack of sleep. So she makes her way downstairs she takes all the necessary steps to making coffee and hurried back upstairs to the bathroom where she turns on the water to the shower, letting it run until it got to the right temperature.

Although she doesn't rush it, she slowly steps in and lets the water run over her to wake her up. After about fifteen minutes she steps out, places her robe on and runs her hand through her hair. Her head aches slightly as she makes her way downstairs; the smell of warm coffee growing as she finally enters the kitchen.

The rich aroma steams out as she poured herself a cup, and replaced the pot back in the cradle before taking a sip from her cup with her hand wrapped around the white colored handle. Her head momentarily pounded less as she held tightly to the cup, her back against the counter as her thoughts overtook her before she quietly drifted back up the stairs, turning on the stereo with her free hand; music beginning to pour through the silence as she walked down the hall and closed the door to the bathroom.

Placing the cup on the counter she turned the hair dryer on the lowest volume, only at first, then pushed it up a bit after a few minutes until her hair was partially dry and carefully she balanced plugging and turning on her curling iron to heat up as she finished drying her hair. The music echoed throughout, its rhythm beating through the loud sound of the hairdryer.

Just like she focused on a case, she kept her mind on Larry. The way that he had offered to go with her for a couple of days to keep her company. The way his lips would curl up in the smile that she loved when she met him at the airport, and the way they sat together and talked as they waited for their departure.

She couldn't help but be glad that she wasn't going alone. But she would also need her own time to reach out and find her sanity; the resentment and confusion she felt with her father. Words that she had to think about saying when she you see and talk to someone that you haven't done so in ten years. No, nothing would be easy about this. But if she didn't do something now, she would always be left wondering how things could have been and if they could have changed for the better before things between them became something too late.

And now she could only hope for the best. She wouldn't exactly be disappointed if things between them didn't go well. But at least after this she would be able to go on with her life without feeling that void that she had felt for years, the one that was deepening and rooting to the satisfaction and conclusion of her reasoning of leaving New York when she had settled in LA.

As soon as she had dressed, put on her makeup and curled her hair, she unplugged the iron and put on her coat. From the top of the stairs she took in a deep breath as she adjusted her coat. It was all too soon when she had reached the bottom and had picked up her suitcase that seemed all too heavy. Now all she had to do was convince herself that what she was doing was for the best and she before she knew it, she would be back in no time.


	3. Lost Without You

**Dedicating this chapter to Sophie, Gilmorefanforever. Happy Birthday!! **

By the time she got to the airport, she was mentally ready to sit down. With an hour to spare she checked in, got her ticket, checked in her suitcase and headed towards her designated gate. Pulling her phone out as she walked, she heard the departure of a plane roaring over, and her finger hovered over the number two on her phone.

Pressing the talk button, she placed the phone up to her ear. The ringing continued, and then somebody on the other line picked up. "Megan" She smiled at his greeting, listening the familiar chatter sounds of the airport on his side. He was here and now he was waiting.

"Hey." Her smile grew wider and her steps heightened then quickened. "I'm just about to the gate. Where are you at?"

"I'm nearest the counter, watching the interesting factor of a plane landing." She smiled, picturing him looking out the window, the plane coming in sight in the distance as she rounded the corner. Her eyes scanned the premises and she quietly walked across the room, closed her phone gently and placed her hand upon his shoulder; a smile on her face.

His smile widened at the sight of her as he turned around to face her. "Hello sweet one." He greeted quietly, closed the space in between them and kissed her soft lips. Her green eyes dazzled, as he led her to the seat that he had been sitting in earlier. "How are you?"

She exhaled, "I'm good now." A soft smile, they both sat down. His fingers lingered on the side of her face, his head titled to the side, eyes searching hers.

"As much as I'm glad you're here as well, something still bothering you?" Her eyes flickered as she took in one deep breath. He really knew how to read her, better than anyone she knew. A small smirk faltered as his readiness to listen. All she knew was she didn't know where to start.

She gazed out the window, then looked back at him. "I don't know." She confessed honestly, running her fingers through her hair. He turned more towards her, his gaze comforting. Her mouth opening as if she were going to say something and it then closed in the same minute. This was not something she ever really talked about, with anybody. And all in a moment she felt lost and there all at the same time. "It's as if I'm going to somewhere I can't call home. Like I'm going back to a part of me that has slipped away for so long." Licking her lips dryly, she trailed off.

"Somewhere you cannot imagine unfathomably going back to." He finished, covering her hand with his. "But that you know will help if you let it." He nodded, knowing by her sudden reaction that he had hit it right on the nail, except something underlining was still there and that he couldn't put in the open.

"Just like that, except that I'm really doing it." She confirmed as she wrapped her arm around his and his free hand softly brushed against her forehead. Her touch was warm, just like he thought he would be. Her graceful blush growing on her checks was full and colorful. He knew that should mean that she was fine, but when he looked deeper he saw the exhaustion, the pain and emotion that she had distanced from everyone else as her way of staying strong.

Her well being, was his life. And right now he was concerned that somewhere in there she was shooting over the edge. Her finesse wasn't as soft as he had been, and it was like at any moment she was just going to break. And so maybe it was needed to get through to her, maybe it wasn't. But whatever he could do, he didn't like seeing her like she was. In all the confidence she put in him, she still hadn't opened fully to him, even though she could talk to him. "But is this what you want?"

He had just opened another door that he wasn't sure where it would lead. Was it more desire or a knowledge that had her jumping on this plane? "You know, I keep feeling like I owe him something. But then again I don't. Like he still has some great hold that I've never pardoned with. What bothers me the most is that he doesn't see what I've built without him, and that I've done just fine."

Larry tilted his head to the side, "I do see now that he does seem to have a great hold on you." The last of the travelers walked out the gate door and everything seemed a bit calmer. She laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, nodding quietly, no longer being able to stay awake. She was exhausted but felt better that he sitting next her, looking over her as she slept.

By the way her chest rose up and down he could tell that she had fallen asleep. He couldn't help smiling as she slept. He didn't get this opportunity often to watch her this way. The way she looked more at peace as she drifted somewhere besides the past that she was nine hours away from digging up, with uncertainty and wonders that she was far from at this moment in time.


	4. Finding Me

Opening her eyes she reacquainted herself with her surroundings; her head still resting against his shoulder as she looked down to check her watch. She had been asleep for almost thirty five minutes. Her eyes scanned the premise, then over to Larry who was holding a newspaper in his hands, reading adamantly.

She sat up; he turned the page, closed the newspaper back up and placed it on the empty chair beside him. "I'm hoping the sleep that you got was suitable?" He asked her; the sky had gotten lighter since she had fallen asleep.

Stretching she offered with a smirk, teasing lightly. "Not exactly what I'd like to call my kind of sleeping." Placing her hand on the back of her neck she worked out the kinks that she was feeling from laying at such an odd angle.

"Well it has been said that your own bed is the most comfortable." He pointed out, just as the announcement that they would begin loading the plane came overhead. With that they still had a few minutes to spare before getting on.

"I can see why." She responded understandably as she stood up. There was a line forming, tickets were being checked. It was only a matter of time that she saw herself being brought back to where she had first run from. She was going on that her father probably still lived in the same house, and she did manage to find out that he worked part time as a teacher in her old high school. And that might have been the last place she would have imagined him working.

"Something in particular you're thinking about?" He inquired, watching another person after person show their tickets, then disappear down the long hall towards the plane.

"That this is got to be the hardest thing that I've ever done." Her eyes drifted upon his for the conclusion, and she nodded. A few minutes silence, the line continued to grow then shortened again. Exhaling, she added. "I feel like I should be working on another case."

"You know that's quite understandable." He agreed, standing up, closing the distance between them. His hands were slightly in his pocket, "Entering the concerns of your heart is not an easy task." She exhaled in relief; he always knew how to calm her.

As if nothing else, before they knew it the next announcement came overhead for the next section to board the plane. The next time that announcement came overhead, it would be their turn.

She mustered another smile and hooked her hand around his as they moved to the window, their backs against the cool glass. "You know that's what I love about you." Beginning, he gazed at her with intentness—he had her in the palm of his hand. "You always seem to know just what I'm thinking." Searching her bright green eyes, he looked happily, almost taken aback.

He scrubbed his hand over his cheek, "As the same to you, sweet one." She loved his greeting, thought about it often. So much that they had stayed silent, as tiredness and trepidation waved over. And then as if like clockwork the final call for the last section was called. And it would nine hours that they would have to get there. This would be time for them to grow closer.

She wished that he would stay longer with her. Nine hours and a few days didn't seem long enough. But somehow he knew she would need time. Have that moral support he brought with him, and would leave in her heart as she conquered what would be her biggest undertaking of all.

Which lead her to ask, what would she see when she saw him? Her father. Somehow she felt like he had changed, when to her he hadn't really changed, even at the small glance that she had of him. Just the fact that he was teaching, brought her back to his lack of patience. The lack of patience he had for his family. Had for her.

As her ticket was handed back to her, she walked beside Larry as they made their way to the plane. Everything from standing in line to where she was now was headed in one big blur. Her thoughts returning as they made their way through the small aisle.

Her father had never been patient. So what had changed? Not like she had guessed that he would have stayed the same for this long. Although he was a stubborn man and probably still was, she wondered what he saw in her now. And she was only hours away from finding out.

Too long. At least it felt that way. By the time that they had reached New York, he would be long gone and back home. So the long awaited and somewhat anticipated reunion would have to wait until tomorrow. As she planned to make a visit to her old school. And him. 


	5. Breaking The Ice

**Thank you for all your reviews! You guys are awesome. And Glissoning Raven those puppy eyes are really getting to me :) **

It had been a long trip. Nine hours and twenty eight minutes to be exact. They had taken off on time, but a slight storm along the way pushed them slightly off track and delayed them by almost a half an hour. But Larry and Megan didn't care. They had talked quietly, drew their love on paper, and then fell asleep against one another, not really realizing the delay until after they had gotten off the plane.

As they walked past through the airport gate, he gazed out the window. "So this is New York." She gazed at him contently, watching his eyes taking in the scenery; her own eyes scanned the premises. To her everything had felt slightly familiar. Being taken back, she realized at one point in her childhood she had stood right where he was standing, looking out the window, her bright green eyes danced with excitement as she watched her mother's plane landing. Placing her little hand on the glass, she whispered, _mommy._

He watched her reminiscence, watching their plane quietly, and then turned towards him. "This is New York." She confirmed, searching his expression to see the wheels in his mind turn.

They began moving forward towards the baggage claim. "Fascinating as it is, both LA and New York are both wonderfully fast paced cities." She exhaled, chuckling slightly as she wrapped her arm around his in a comforting gesture.

"I never realized how true that was until I moved to LA. It was like a whole other functioning system." With a grin in their expressions, they finally arrived at the baggage claim and stood beside a bunch of people, watching suitcase after suitcase of numerous colors, shapes, and sizes slide their way down the belt. The search for their own was on.

"If I may ask, what made you decide?" Taking in a deep breath, he saw what he thought might be his suitcase.

"What made me come to LA?" She inquired as he gave a small nod, he stepped forward as his luggage came riding by and she moved up to his side. "I moved a lot, doing special assignments. Anything I could do to put my foot in the door. But then it started to take a big toll on me, always moving around." He grabbed his suitcase, checked it to make sure it was his and looked up with an understanding glance. ""So I took a less paced job, which just happened to be there."

A middle aged woman holding a hand of a child came up to their side, momentarily letting go of her little girl's hand as she grabbed a suitcase. The little girl had two neatly rows of braided hair, and stared up at Megan with a bashful smile. "Hi" The little girl greeted quietly, almost melting Megan's heart.

"Hi." Megan returned as her smile bloomed into deep happiness, one that steamed from the root of something she had always longed for, the happiness of having her own family.

"She'll talk your ears off if you let her." The little girl's mother offered, turning to her daughter's level. "Hold on to this. I'm going to go get your bag." The little girl did what her mother had instructed her to do, and turned back in Megan's direction.

"I'm Katie." The little girl supplied, holding tightly to the handle of the bag. "That's my mom." She pointed in the direction of the woman who was grabbing a little pink princess suitcase.

"Megan, isn't that your bag?" Larry nudged her shoulder, pointing the direction of a black bag. Megan nodded and grabbed her bag, exhaling as she lifted it off the belt.

"You have a pretty name." Katie offered, adding, glancing sadly at her mother who was making her way back to her daughter. "I wish I had a mommy like you." She dropped the doll from her bag and Megan bent down to pick it up. The little girl offered a small smile and took the doll back into her arms.

The little girl's mother came back, taking the little girl's hand "We've got our bags now, are you ready to go see daddy?" Bowing her head she nodded and they went off. Megan and Larry turned to go in the other direction and the little girl looked back as she was pulled behind her mother. She didn't look at all happy.

"You know she's right, you would make a great mother." Even though he didn't mean to avoid exactly what this little girl said, he knew that she would be great with children. There were a few instances that he saw something spark inside of her that no one got to see very often, and today was one of those times that unveiled in her sweet smile.

"I feel like that's not all that she meant." And with that they made their way out of the airport.


	6. Photograph

Megan sat on the edge of the hotel bed, pushing back a strand of hair from her face as she slipped on her shoes. Listening to the silence, she exhaled as a small ironic smile parted through, somehow to the fact her confidence was that of a lost princess, slipping on that glass slipper that she had always deserved to wear, but hadn't gotten the chance until now to do so.

Looking up, behind the curtain she saw the blue sky that hid behind the dark red fabric. She would need to beat traffic, no matter what the time. If at possible, she would need to reacquaint herself with the city, give her thoughts time to make their way to the surface before entering them.

She stood up, the bed creaking. Larry was fast asleep on the identical bed next to hers. Raking her hands through her hair she exhaled, watching his frame still and resting as she kissed him softly on the cheek and reached over to the desk chair and pulled her black coat from it and put it on before softly leaving the room that they had acquired a room on the second floor of the Salisbury Hotel.

Exhaling, she pushed her hand against the down button. Resting her head against her hand, she took in slow deep breathes as the elevator opened. She raised her head up giving a quick greeting from a stranger who rushed out and the steel elevator doors close. As gravity pulled her down, she placed her hand in her pocket, pulling out the key to the rental car and wrapping her mind around what she about to do.

She didn't know whether or not it was the time difference, or the lack of jetlag, but she had stayed up half the night asking question after question, finally falling asleep after hours of staring up at the ceiling. It wasn't just about her father, but how she could move on with her life. It wasn't about the little girl about the airport who at the tender age that she was had clued Megan on her life, but it was the reflection on her words that shaped the empathy that made her want to wrap her arms around that little girl and tell her that she was loved. And it certainly wasn't the fact that if this trip didn't make a difference, but instead she could put all of this behind her, use this as fuel for every case that she worked on.

The door to the elevator opened and she walked out down the hall and right past the front desk. She found the rain to be drizzling down lightly and falling down smoothly in the gray sky as she walked into the parking lot. Unlocking the door of the 2006 white Chevrolet Impala, she stepped out of the rain into the passenger's side, placing the car key into the ignition and started the engine.

As she made her way around New York it took a bit of searching, but she finally arrived at her old school. The rain had stopped long since and the sky had cleared to blue as she stepped out of the car into the school parking lot. The wind tossed her hair around lightly and she was glad for the comfort of her old school.

No, she hadn't liked it much, but now that she was older it was a surrounding that she now found herself standing in. Her shoes hit against the tile floor, as her eyes scanned each picture. Every year a picture had been taken, and here as she scanned each face, she found herself looking at her own.

"They're fascinating to look at. I can only wonder how they've moved on." A voice cut in, that of an older woman. Once she had found that she had gotten Megan's attention she inquired, "I can't help but wonder if there's something that I can help you with." Getting a better look, she found herself now staring at a familiar face.

"Actually I was looking for somebody that works here. I was hoping that you could tell me what room he teaches in." She inquired, taking one more look at the photograph. "Milo Reeves."

"Ah, Mr. Reeves. He's one of kind." The woman replied, beckoning for her to follow her. Megan raised her eyebrow, having a different reasoning for her father being one of a kind. "I'm Parker Bennett by the way." Parker introduced as they made their way down a long hall.

"Megan." She left out her last name for reasoning purposes as she introduced herself. She exhaled as she continued to follow Parker down another hall, until they stopped at another room, "Well here's where Mr. Reeves teaches." She walks in as Megan leans against the frame of the door, which revealed a younger looking teacher. "Troy, I would like you to meet Megan. She's seeking Mr. Reeves. I'm sure that you can help her with that, now can't you?"

"Of course" He smiled, extending his hand to Megan. "Troy Vandeross." Parker smirked, leaving the room. "I can only say you look familiar. But then again I could be greatly mistaken."

"I could imagine. I'm Megan Reeves. How did that football career turn out for you? The last time I heard you were the star captain of the team."

"It went well, played clear up to the end of senior year until graduation. What about you? I didn't see much of you over the years."

Megan smirked, picking up the familiar sound of footsteps echoing down the hall. "I actually didn't stick around here much. " She began to explain, noticing that as the footsteps and the person they belonged to seemed all too memorable.


	7. Stop and Stare

**Thank you for the reviews. I've been wrapping my hand around this chapter for a few days now, enjoy.**

Time seemed to slow. From the moment that she had entered the classroom, she knew that things had changed. But her father hadn't changed everything. Despite that they were about to stand face to face, she turned her attention towards the door and waited. This moment wasn't any different. She had always been waiting.

As she took a deeper look, she turned towards the desk, her hands grasping the frame. She recognized the pink tutu, the little girl that wore it, and the fact that it had been taken after her performance. The one he didn't attend. The only year that she took it. She thought that he had hated it, when she had given him the frame with the picture inside, for his birthday.

He had acted like he had liked it, but the little girl inside knew that he hadn't. _His footsteps trailed. _Her hands ran over the frame at the excitement at the prospect of surprising him. _She swore she could feel his eyes on her as he stood at the frame of the door, probably exactly where she had been standing minutes ago. _

Running her hand over the frame, she felt her mother's hand grasp hers, and as a six year old girl Megan walked down the aisle with her allowance stuffed deeply into her jean pockets. _Had she been foolish to let herself believe that he would really like her gift? _So what was it doing here?

"It's hard to believe that was you." She didn't turn to look at him. Didn't have to realize how he knew who she was. She was his daughter. _Or was she?_ Because she didn't feel like she was.

"Came a long way from being that little girl." Megan pointed out quickly, turning around to face him. Her green eyes slowly leveling with his. She had changed so much, became so wise. As a child he had never acknowledged how smart she had been, and how smart she was. Actually he had never really acknowledged her at all. _So what was it about this reunion between them that told him that he didn't deserve this? _

He nodded intently as his gaze fell upon the picture, her hand resting just in front of it. And he was aware of how much her manner reminded him of his own father, "You have." except his father hadn't messed up with his him, like Milo had with his daughter. Now he was beginning to understand the consequences as she stood there. _He had never been one to take lightly to her. Every frustration had been put upon her shoulders, which made him wroth in who she was as a person, her decision to run away when she had been sixteen, and especially her career choice. So when had he decide to look in her direction of thoughts? _

She looked around just for the point. "Never would have taken you for the teaching type." He nodded, an almost smirk playing upon his lips, in happiness of what he teaching had made him discover, then it all faded as something deep down inside made him realize the spark of green fury contently dancing in her eyes.

And this time he figured that it was time to choose his words carefully. "We both know by now that my way of handling situations wasn't remarkably memorable for you." She didn't look quite satisfied, but he was still glad that she was even still listening. As if they were actually being civil to each other. "Neither was I great at warming up to teaching or learning how to gain patience." He took in a deep breath as she nodded almost shortly.

For a moment she softened her approach, with a dangerous raise of her eyebrow. "I'm glad you finally realized patience is a virtue, but it's not going to do you any good here." Her voice began to raise to a somewhat remorse but apparent level of anger as her green eyes striked against his. "If you could really see how many times I didn't get you, you would have seen a little girl that felt like she was being suffocated and trapped and that was the only possible way that she could make him see was running away from it all. If you were to look deeper you would see a child who did everything in her power to make her father happy, including being that little boy that he never got, but the little girl who still never got anything in return. And if you could see that you would realize how equally much I loved you, but that you never showed me that love that I desperately wanted, but no longer need from you."

He felt crushed inside, her last words breaking an enormous impact on him. His forehead creased as they stayed silent and in realization found sight of her pain.

**Will be continued…**


	8. Here Is Gone

The bell outside rang loudly, symbolizing the beginning of class. It hardly had fazed him when some of his students walked into the classroom, quickly taking notice of someone they had never seen before, and they definitely had questions. Whispers of wonderment had already been placed among the early morning class.

"I should let you get to your class." She signaled quietly, taking a step back towards the door, and he swore that his heart skipped a beat because she was about to step out there and reality set in that this really was his last chance to make anything of the moment. A desperate stare, he watched her take the few steps, her hand grasping the knob and he did the only thing that he could think of—he called out to her.

He felt a piece of relief as they stepped out into the hall. The door closed behind, almost like they had put another part of their past behind them. But they weren't alone, and he found as her stare collided with his that he got a moment to see the little girl she had been.

"If there's anything I have wanted to say to you," Despite not wanting to break from the vision he saw of the little girl he saw inside, he forced himself to look what he saw now, even though he desperately wanted to hold on to the little girl that seemed to be crying out to be held. "It would start with not holding you enough," He felt the tears welling up in his eyes. "Or telling you how much that I loved you."

Somewhere inside, even though what she had said about not needing him to love her, the little girl inside began to finally break free. _He really loved her. _But as she blinked back the emotion of whether she should really believe him, she still wouldn't let him know how many times she had cried, or how many times she had hurt to know if he had actually loved her at all.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She half whispered. This time it was hurt, from deep inside, that almost urged him to tears. He couldn't hide anymore how much he had hurt her, how much he had avoided his own daughter.

He felt the guilt overwhelm him. "The last time I talked to you, our argument over the phone I took it that you never wanted me to find you again. I called you a few weeks later and your phone was disconnected. I tried to look you up every year but you were never listed again."

Megan reached into her pocket, holding her phone in her hand. "I moved."

"Where?" She gazed up at him as he swallowed. He really wanted to know. To him this was important.

"At that time, Oklahoma." He nodded, taking the information in. She could see the burning urge to him asking her where she was living now. "Moved a couple years after." Reminiscing on her time with the behavioral unit with the FBI, she looked up at him, reading his expression. He looked hopeful.

His throat was suddenly dry. Maybe she had been closer than he had originally thought. "But you're happy now?" This question had surprised him, and her.

There was a slight pause between them as she collected her thoughts. They exchanged glances, and he tilted his head in a pleading way. "I'm happy." Her own words seemed to echo in her head.

"Good." He noted, his expressions reflecting how happy he was for her, but guilt still sat heavily on his chest. So instead he decided to focus on her. The way she stood so tall, how professional she looked and the way she had dealt with this situation, even though he saw many questions that she could ask him, but hadn't. He also knew that this conversation would be short lived. "So how long are you here for?"

"I leave Friday morning back to LA." She answered, putting her phone back into her pocket, a content look in her expression as she pushed herself away from the wall. Megan never thought of how hard it was to have left, knowing full well when she came back there would be plenty of questions. He grew quiet again feeling time growing even shorter.

His eyes brightened, but knew not to judge this moment too quickly. As father and daughter they were better off than they had been for the last ten years, but they hadn't even began to touch the surface of their broken relationship.

"Thank you for coming." He finished with deep gratitude.

TBC...


	9. Dreaming Out Loud

Running her hotel card for entrance to the room, she pushed down on the handle and entered. "Larry?" It was almost after twelve now. After the talk with her father she needed some time to collect her emotions before returning so she had driven a couple blocks to a park to where she had gone with her friends after school.

"Megan" Larry greeted with a smile as he rounded the corner. The lamp on the right was on, glowing softly upon the couch beside the place he had been occupying. At first glance she looked slightly ruffled. A smile curled on her lips indicated a partial weight that had been lifted off of her shoulders. He embraced her in a friendly hug, her tension slowly releasing as she pulled back from his hold. "I take it your meeting with your dad was quite contrary to what you assumed?"

Biting down on her lip softly she softly remarked with uncertainty laced in her tone, "He's apparently changed." Taking off her coat she put it over his on the chair, where it had been sitting before.

She looked away, turning back towards him resting her hand on the chair. "But you don't believe him?" Guessing, he closed the distance between them. Looking up, she nodded in a way that he understood—the way that said that she was still trying to come to terms with the man who was her father.

"There was always a time that I wanted him to be this way," Reminiscing, she shook her head at the emotions that were rising inside, but exhaled in relief that she could be herself around him. "He had a picture I gave him when I was six sitting on his desk, the same one that years ago, didn't mean a thing."

"I hate to say, but perhaps he had a sudden insight of perhaps what we don't know the whereabouts." He offered, interlacing her hand with his and showing her to the couch before taking a seat beside her.

"See that's what I don't get." She pointed out, furrowing her brows. "I have all these scenarios going through my mind where I try to understand his new philosophy of life and I come short."

"Well he did betray your level of trust." Larry cut in as he suggested and observed her slowly rest her hands in her lap.

"You're right he did." She put in thoughtfully, stifling a yawn to which he couldn't miss. The concern from earlier was definitely apparent in his expression as he sat up to examine her appearance, to which he concluded that it looked as if she had hardly gotten a wink of sleep.

"Hmm." He added caringly, observing. Her green eyes gazed at him with interest, eyebrows raising tentatively as she gentle smiled, tapping his forehead gently.

_Honesty. Is what you need. It sets you free like someone to save you. Let it go. All right. Sit down and spill your heart. Let's start from the very start. _

"Tell me what's going through this mind of yours?" She prodded gently, a small smile turning up on her lips.

_She never slows down. __She doesn't know why but she knows that when she's all alone, feels like its all coming down._

He looks up at her sincerely, the ways she loves. "It's hard to know where to stand. With you, I love how you can share with me what you're feeling. And I respect your privacy, but frankly it concerns what it's doing to you."

_She won't turn around. The shadows are long and she fears if she cries that first tear, the tears will not stop raining down._

Megan exhales, scrubbing her hands over her face. "I guess I've gotten so use to all the years, keeping confidence with myself." Confessing, she walks over towards the window and looks out at the rain that falls to the ground and hits against the panes.

_So stand in the rain. Stand your ground. Stand up when it's all crashing down__. You stand through the pain. You won't drown. And one day, what's lost can be found. You stand in the rain._

"To which are untouched and you feel like are hardly understood." He takes a cautious step, sits on the edge of the bed.

_She feels lost in her own life. Treading water just to keep from slipping under. And she wonders if she's where she's supposed to be. Tired of trying to do it right. Her dreams are just too far away to see how steps she's making might be taking her to who she'll be__. And suddenly it isn't what it used to be. And after all this time it worked out just fine. And suddenly I am where I'm supposed to be. And after all the tears, I was supposed to be here. _

Gazing out the window, she catches her own reflection, her own tired reflection from what she knows is from years of working constantly, to keep herself moving as much as she can, just as long as she doesn't have to look back.

_She feels locked in her own __life. Scared of what she might lose. If she moves away from who she was. And she's afraid of being free. There's a way she knows is right, and she can't feel the things she knows and so each step she's taking is a step of faith towards who she'll be._

The emotions inside tear at her. She wants to pull herself from the wall she that she has built around herself because somehow despite the circumstances she finds somebody who wants to listen.

_And here where the night is darkest black, she feels the fear. And the light is farthest back. And through her tears she can see the dawn. Its coming skies will clear. And the light will find her where she's always been._

_-----_

Lyrics are from '_Someone To Save You'_ by One Republic, '_Stand In the Rain' _and_' Suddenly' _by Superchick.


	10. This Is My Now

Time drew on and the rain had grown to an almost pour. She hadn't changed the position of stance as her piercing green eyes stared out the window, not even once in the last twenty minutes. He waited patiently, one hand resting on the curve of the bed. If there was anything he had learned in his life, it was patience.

Just like he knew the ways of advanced mathematics, she was a profiler, a psychologist who understood the human emotions and could tap in without difficulty into other's minds, drawing out whatever she needed. That's what made her so good. She pushed away her own, focused on the case at hand and she knew that she would have to reverse the process and then some in order to get herself out of this one.

She began to draw in words, Shaking her head, she shifted to face him. Exhaling she gave in slightly, her eyes leveling with his until she had drawn herself to sit down beside him. He nodded realizing her confusion, took in the sight of her red eyes; tear stained cheeks, and increased tired demeanor. The thought ran through his mind that so often she took on a tough focused degree, and he imagined her at the office, surrounded by Colby, Don and David, his lips turned up as he consciously exhaled in gratitude at the protective stance the three men gave off as they stood talking. Their eyes scanning the area, efficiently taking in the technique of body language, tone and perception, The only thing that had been lost was seeing how far they were all drifting and were unable to entirely read the other. If only they could see this side of her.

"It's just that I've never," She made a little movement with her hand. "I've only started confiding just recently and I am admitting that it's never as easy as it looks." Offering an awkward smile, she let her hand slip back into her lap. He returned her gaze with a very strong look of contemplation as he brought his hand to rest upon hers.

"I wish I could take everything upon my shoulders for the sake of your happiness but I know that I cannot."

"And it's really great that you would, there's just been so much going on these last few months that I haven't taken the time to look around and realize that I have many people surrounding me, the one thing that I've only been pleading for half of my life." Offering a gentle smile, her fingers interlaced with his. "I'm a lot happier here. I know that if I had stayed in New York, my life would have turned out very different." She gave his hand an extra squeeze. He squeezed back and leaned in to kiss her lips gently.

Her hand framed his cheek as they gazed into each other's eyes. "That's because you're a fighter my dear." Breaking out into a contagious smile, they deepened the kiss even further, before coming up for air. Mirroring his smile, she let her other hand rest on his right cheek as she closed her eyes and leaned in as her lips collided with his without another word. Her hand glided down his cheek, her body began to relax and she drew in another breath.

"So I promised my father I would give him a call." She revealed quietly, "I can only imagine sitting around a table now, when I clearly remember that stern look on his face when I was a little girl and I would try to sit down at the table at home and you couldn't miss the fact that I had been playing in the mud." Recollecting, she smiled openly as he raised a playful surprised raise of his eyebrow.

"I take it you did that often?" Nodding he inquired, gently tucking a misplaced piece of hair back behind her ear. Smiling at the gesture, she nodded briskly.

"I would go back behind the field at school and play football with the boys." Furthering she added, "On this particular day it had been raining and I knew dinner was exactly at six. I had been just a little late and had run into the house while everybody else was washing up for dinner. Well I ended up slipping into my chair just as my father put down his newspaper. He jumped slightly; taking a second glance to wonder how long I had been sitting there and then he would finally ask 'Where have you been?' as he folded up his newspaper. I had managed to dry myself off quite well, only to come up with an answer of, 'playing football' in the most considerate tone that I could manage without getting off on the wrong foot."

"_What got you into playing in the mud in the middle of a rain storm?" Tossing his paper to the corner of the room, he straightened as his oldest daughter looked up from just pouring the pasta into a strainer in the sink. Her eyes stared at him intently as she warned him not to start anything. It always turned out badly in the end. _

_Looking at the empty table Megan got up to busy herself with getting out dishes from the cupboard. "I like playing football whether rain or shine." She pressed setting the dishes carefully on the counter and pulled out forks._

_Her father frowned, "Those guys are half the age of you and yet you still go out there despite rain or shine." Unfortunately this was another day that he hadn't listened, and there was another memory to throw out the window._

"I challenged him so often; it was like we were constantly calling duels with our lives."

"You did have a good reason to be angry at him. He clearly wanted you to be something you weren't but what you tried to be, and in the end it's evident that he finally sees that or at least as he wonders what it would be like to undestand.

TBC….


	11. Closure

Megan steps towards an old familiar coffee shop. In stride, her gaze catches the overhead of a scarlet red and a faded yellow pattern of the overhead as she crosses the street. The shop was owned by an old neighbor, mid twenties; widowed and had a son who was almost the same age as she was. If instinct was right, that same boy now all grown up, was in that same shop today. His enthusiastic demeanor just like his own father, who as she sees it, is still working right beside his son.

A smirk plays upon her lips, seeing a middle aged man she recognizes as her neighbor through the shop window. As she enters she looks upwards toward the same familiar ring of the bell above the door. Her hand pulls off the handle, and the man gazes at her with familiarity as she scans the surrounding tables and stands in the middle of the brown and white checkered tile floor.

She is keenly aware from the corner of her eye that he is leaning against the handle of his broom that he had been sweeping with but she continues to search the premises until her green eyes strike a chord with another familiar face. Her father, to whom he raises a hand to her in greeting. Instinctively she senses the pattern of apprehension as he rests his hand back on the table in front of him.

Even though it has been a couple of days since he has seen her last, he looks away momentarily, fiddles with the handle of his coffee cup and takes a tentative sip as she makes her way back towards him. With his grey blue eyes, the young man who has dark brown hair and has a striking resemblance to his own father, stands behind the counter watching his father continue to lean against the broom frozen as his own eyes connect with what he has taken interest in.

There sits a middle aged man with his hand wrapped around his coffee mug. He knows that man well, is familiar with his struggles. And then he thinks back to the young girl, her strikingly piercing green eyes which shed many tears in regard to the man who he watches before him. The young man catches at the sense of familiarity as he watches her sit beside the man, noticing that she sits close but still quite distant, her stance indecisive.

He looks as if he hasn't slept, looks worse off than before but she doesn't mention it, because he already knows. He knows that waking up numerous times these past two nights are not to be taken lightly. She goes back and she'll never know why he had changed. She leaves and he fears over and over that she'll never return. His daughter had her own life and he couldn't even describe the perfection she had achieved, the difference he saw between what he had expected from her and from what she had become.

The resentment had edged, concern taking place instead. She had never been able to understand him. Not once. But the questions still swirled constantly, although peace between them for once in their lives they sat together. It took several minutes and another order of coffee before he finally spoke, "I kept thinking about you, how if something happened you would never know just what had changed me."

Leaning back against her chair, she noted what he was trying to tell her. The same thoughts had gone through her mind, oddly enough. Over and over she thought about what would have happened if she had been on a case and something had happened that would change everything, maybe had even taken her life, and she would be left for the rest of her life never knowing who he was or never picking up the pieces that she had lost somewhere along the way.

"I've had the same occurrence, the one that keeps playing over and over in my head. Some cases I've been working on have had a profound effect on reminding me just what I left behind." She reassured him steadily, but quietly as she took a sip of her own coffee. He looked in surprise at her revelation, setting his coffee down on the table with a slight thump as it hit the flat surface.

His eyes connect with hers over the brim of his cup as he swallows down the remaining coffee he has left. He nods, moving his fingers around the rim of the cup. "I had a student, transferred in last year. She reminded me so much of you." A rueful smile breaks loose then fades. "At first glance she was quiet, had a tendency to speak her mind. I finally figured out why after I met her father around one of those breaks in the school year, when the teachers meet with the parents."

She nods, her eyes lighting up at the mention of a parent teacher conference. Never was she good at them and when her parents would meet with her teachers she was afraid of what either one of them would end up telling the other. Most times it ended up with her excusing herself, knowing full well that the teacher was going to have one of those private talks with her teacher. If looks could have killed, that's what she felt like when the night was over.

He sees the lost look in her eyes, knows what she's thinking about as she brings herself to look at him, to let him know that she's still listening. "All I remember was how I would wonder off and you would sternly tell me to head back to the car."

Mentally cringing, he nods knowing full what he did to her. One time he had gotten so desperate at making her understand that he had smacked her. And that was the last time that he had touched her, being just as stunned at what he had done. After that he didn't know how to handle her. Whatever way he tried to approach her, it never worked.

TBC…


	12. All We Are

"From the day that I held you in my arms" He cupped his hands side by side as if he were cradling a small baby. "I had a feeling that you were going to be my last one, and I didn't want to bring myself to disappointment that…" He realized and felt ashamed of the words that were running through his head.

"That I was another girl." Her mouth twitched, "I was told that her last pregnancy was your last chance of having a boy." She filled him. He sat there, finally leaning back against his chair. "What I don't get is when did you realize you had four daughters?"

His eyes narrowed, "Megan." Exhaling, he placed his hands on the table. She wasn't making this easy for him, and he knew she wouldn't. And she had the right not to be making this any easier. "You have always been my daughter."

She scoffed, shaking head and looking out the window in containment in order not to walk out that door. _You should didn't try very hard for me to be your daughter. _"I lived half of my life in places you wouldn't have approved in, lost more sleep just to hunt down a suspect for a case, and have practically lived at my office for the past eight years." Raising her eyebrow, she felt the steam rising, "You had sixteen years to show me, why now?" The green fury in her eyes returned, except this time she couldn't help the glistening tears that danced in her eyes.

"Because I love you." Answering quietly, she shook her head again, the tears that were there were now gone. "I know you don't believe me right now, but I do."

Swallowing hard, she could feel herself holding onto the chair, "I don't. And you still haven't answered my question. Why now?" Raising her eyebrows dangerously; the corner of his lips faltered into a frown, eyebrows creasing as he interlocked his fingers together. There were conflicting emotions on the rise; sadness, anger, motive behind unsought feelings.

"Many times, emotions mirroring back. I overhear kids in the classroom before school starts to the halls talking about how unfair their parents are. Then I see a young girl, reminds me so much of you, except she's quite troubled, semi quiet and was repeatedly getting bad grades and I could only assume until I got a chance to talk to her that it could have been a wide variety of troubles in her life." He paused momentarily, "And there were. One in particular." Neither one had to ask what, "Her father had been pushing her and she felt trapped, didn't know what to do. She asked me if I considered running away a good option."

"What did you end up telling her?" Megan added softly, hinting that he had left that out. Although the bile in the back of her throat was still creeping up as she awaited his answer. Her head pounded and she continually wondered why she had agreed to come, when she could have sworn that she would have rather been consumed by the files that sat on her desk, or rather laying down on a flat soft surface with her eyes closed.

"I told her to think about what she was planning on doing. If she knew where she was going to go when she left, asked her if she knew what effect it took on somebody other than herself, even if she didn't think it would now because it does, and it did. Initially she was angered, thought about it, and asked me why I cared so much in the first place."

"A common reaction on her part." Megan noted, pushing her cup to the side.

"You must see this often." He assumed, continuing. "She was scared, so I let her know ahead of time that although I didn't understand what she was going through, I knew from experience that once you let go, the harder it is to get what you want back."

"Let me guess, she didn't quite take?" She asked in a softer, more understanding voice. He needed credit for trying, experiencing what he had missed in one way or the other.

"She didn't believe me, and could have cared less what I had to say. More or less, I think there was more but she wasn't willing to share, so I didn't push it."

Exhaling she encouraged, "Just keep working on her. A lot of people just need to know that you understand."

Her words left an impressionable mark, silence eluded as he opened his mouth than closed it again before finding the right words a few minutes later with a smile, the first of the day. "You're the expert." She sat up and let her back rest against the chair, her eyes resting on his watch. "I'll take your word for it."

"I see you still have the watch that Walter gave you." Megan pointed out. She had always liked Walter. He had been her favorite uncle and she hadn't seen him in years.

"Yeah, it's a good watch. I'm surprised you still remember."

"How could I forget? Walter gave you a rubber snake; everybody went around screaming after you pulled it out. That had to be one of the best days of my life."

He shook his head and laughed, "I'm glad that you liked it so much, because it almost gave your mother a heart attack."

They both fell silent, "About what I said earlier. I've been pretty hard on you the past few days." She admitted as he held up his hand.

"I wouldn't have expected any less. Like I said, I wasn't that easy on you either. I kept thinking about scenarios if you had been home and I think for the best, you made the right decision. You know you did well for yourself."

She offered, standing up. "I only did what I had to do."

TBC….


	13. Heart Of The Matter

"I'm taking it things went well this time around?" Larry inquired as he sat on a bench outside the hotel doors, a newspaper in his hands. She turned around as he strolled over to her and let her lips collide with his, the discarded newspaper sitting on the bench.

She smiled against his lips, "It's getting there, if that's what you're asking." Both of their smiles grew wider as her hands wrapped around his neck. "You're getting really close."

"I believe we do have a room which to talk in." He points out, letting his lips collide with hers again. She tilts her chin up to meet his lips once more as the warmth of his body meshes with hers. Deepening, her eyes scan his.

With her hands still wrapped around him she pulls back, green eyes shining. "I am hearing you right." She arches her eyebrows sweetly, hardly unable to keep from the smirk on her face logically knowing exactly what he was thinking. She just didn't think that it would be now.

The wind blows and she tightens her hold around him, green eyes parting for his attention as they finally met hers again. "I've actually been thinking about it for awhile now." He confirmed, nodding timidly. "I'm not saying we have to right now, but some time, if ever." He offered, listening to a few birds chirping in the trees. "You know I really meant it when I said that some day you would make a great mother."

Her eyes scanned his, her brow arching then falling. "I know" She whispered, "But I've always had my doubts about being a mother." Confessing, her hands quickly interlaced with his as they walked back into the hotel, until they had reached the room they were staying in.

"You know, nobody can ever make you do what you don't what to do." He puts in understandingly, her expression falling gravely. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that you have the choice to change the future. Just because you have a past, doesn't mean that you don't deserve to have a future."

His last words caught her attention as she squeezed his hand, "Yeah about that." Pausing, she explained, exhaling. "It's just that I've had my share of thoughts about white weddings, somebody to spend my life with, and then I realize that my past extends beyond my future, to the degree. When I came back, I came back as a completely different person." He nodded with compassion, recognizing she was talking about after assignment.

Momentarily she looks away as if she would beg to differ, the wind blowing around them. She smiles in thought as she lets it fade. "Don, Charlie, David, Colby, you, you're all like the family I've never had. I blended in really well and I actually felt like everything would finally be alright. And I did everything just to redirect the director's calls just so that I wouldn't have to go. When I had to leave unexpectedly I had this big knot in my stomach. Not just because I was leaving and immediately. It was hard to pack and just leave, but I didn't know how hard it would be until I got there. In the DOJ I felt mainly from the moment I stepped in there that I was employed in a circus ring. It was in total opposition of what I stood for when I got up in the morning each day and put on my badge and gun." Sprawling out on her bed, he came and sat at the edge.

There was silence between them as she looked up towards the ceiling then looked at the empty space beside and invited him to lie beside her. "The truth is that I'm not sure how to react. I came back and I was just getting back into being home and going back to work and I couldn't tolerate the mind set that I had divulged into." She sat straight up, "That night we all went home from watching Colby being arrested, I couldn't keep myself from seeing those images with a lot of undefined rage because I had missed all the signs."

"I'm afraid we all did." He chimed in with regret as he pondered on everything she was telling him.

Letting her head rest against the palm of her hand, she admitted. "I wore myself out to the point of exhaustion, when we had a few days off." His forehead creased in concern, "I spent hours outside just walking around or running. It was better that I wasn't sitting at home waiting for a phone that wasn't going to ring. "

He sat up abruptly beside her. "But you did talk about it, tell me Don or David at least discussed what happened."

"Other way around actually. I tried to get to them and they practically put up in defense, a brick wall." Exhaling, she adds. "Don basically asked me if I was ready to do this again."

"I do not doubt your judgment with if you are or your not, but I see his point. Maybe he thinks that you were getting back into your work too soon and taking on something just as equally stressful as what you were doing."

Cocking her eyebrow, she exhales. "I can see why, but ever since I've stepped foot back onto land it's like he's uncertain of my capabilities. And I've found myself sinking further in cases, pulling all-nighters and studying new information whenever I can because maybe just one day I'll find what I've been looking for." It felt almost strange that he was going home tomorrow. In the aspects of their relationship, they had grown even closer. And in introspection he had gained a greater knowledge as he acquired a better familiarity for her state, hometown, and her, the woman he grew to love more and more everyday.

TBC...


	14. On The Ride

**It has come to my attention that I rushed this chapter a little too much, so I've decided to add quite a bit of talk between Larry and Megan. And yes, Larry will get the chance to meet Megan's father after all, in Chapter Fifteen. And yes, everything written before will come back.**

Setting his packed suitcase on the bed, he zipped it up. Megan pulled in the window curtain to let the soft sun in. Her hair had been curled in tight curls, flowing softly onto the back of her green shirt. He smiled tenderly watching her casually move around, adjusting the blinds so they were nicely pulled back before they took off.

He was still thinking about her. Everything seemed to slow as her graceful movements overtook him. So much could happen within a day, and he was leaving without her. He had to just remind himself that she would be back tomorrow. And as if she had read his thoughts her shoulders fell in satisfaction. Turning around to face him, pieces of golden curls fell to the side, gracing her beauty.

Megan laughed as he shook his head, taking him out of his contemplation. The corner of his lips curled up in an awkward grin as his eyes rested upon hers. "Where did you go just now?"

"Into the deep complex system of our lives." He answered contently, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. "It's amazing really." He gazed at her, almost deep in thought again.

She nodded at his enthusiasm, comprehending the change in both of them since the week had passed. "You know I'm glad that I asked you to come with me."

"It was a pleasure to be asked, really." Larry responded, closing the distance so they were facing each other. "You know, I've got a whole new positive outlook coming with you." He explained as Megan cocked an eyebrow. "New York is so different from LA on so many levels."

With apprehension in her tone, "You know I think I've got everything figured out in general my father. Things aren't going to be smooth just like that, but I think in a way, you'd like him."

He raised an eyebrow, nodding. "Then I think I'd really like to meet him."

She exhaled, "I'm not sure what his schedule is, but I don't think that he'd mind if we dropped by. We've still have a few hours before we have to get you to the airport." Looking at her watch, they walked towards the door. Megan reached into her pocket and pulled out her keys.

"Here I was thinking that LA was a city that by no means sleeps." Larry noted, holding open the door for her to pass through. Megan smiled, he looked almost apprehensive. "Then again, I've never had to meet your father."

Laughing they made their way down the hall, the door closing behind them as they walked side by side. "Yeah well, you'd be surprised. I'm amazed how much everything has changed since I've been here. For years I expressed how much I didn't like living here, and the lifestyle that we had. I was so afraid that it was going to be the same, but it turned out to be opposite at least so far." Hands interlacing she checked the door to make sure that it had closed properly and they walked together down the hall, and out the doors that led to the hotel parking lot.

"You know this does proves something valuable." He noted as the shielded their eyes from the bright sun. "That things can change and prove worthy in the end." Of course in his own way, he was making mention of his own father. He had always been disappointed at everything Larry was. And the fact that she was making amends with her own father, gave him hope that maybe one day he would too.

Reaching the rental car, he steadied the suitcase as she unlocked the trunk. She watched him carefully and couldn't miss seeing the pain flash through his eyes. Briefly, but not usually, he had discussed tidbits about his own father. On that end he was as far as a closed book on the subject. Even though she had a proposition that he would collapse on the silence eventually, she glanced at him from time to time to see if he would let her in as they got into the car. Of course it took several minutes. They made another turn that led onto a long stretch of road. Peering in the other direction, he turned back to face the windshield, but didn't ask until they had gone further. "Did you really have to go all this way just to get to school?"

Smiling at his curiosity, she rolled down her window slightly. "Most days I took the bus, unless I could get one of my sisters to drive me I was stuck riding the bus. Besides the fact that I didn't like waking up earlier it was always a struggle to get there on time."

He raised his eyebrow in surprise, "I'm a bit surprised, have you always been somewhat of a night owl?"

Braking at the light, she nodded. "I always use to stay up late to brush up on piled up books that I had stacked underneath my bed. I took psychology when I was in high school and my teacher was so intrigued. Even took the time to talk to me and lent me books that I'm pretty sure that at that time my father wouldn't have approved of. "As she trailed he found himself contemplating. "Although I'm sure he didn't consider anything I did to being highly valuable, I kept thinking how much better I could do on my own, you know if he wasn't there. And then one day out of the blue, the decision of leaving home felt reasonably good."

A little more he was seeing her perspective. Between the two of them there was an airy silence, when he shifted in his seat. "How do you forgive him?"


	15. Where Do You Run?

**Sorry for the short delay. I've been adding quite a few things in the story. I actually took chapter Fourteen down to add a great leading conversation between Megan and Larry which kind of introduces happenings for Chapter Fifteen. So please make sure to go back and read it if you haven't already. I've changed things quite a bit. But everything that you read before in the old Chapter Fourteen, you'll see starting to come back in the next few chapters. Enjoy. **

Pushing back in her seat, she pulled into the parking lot of the school, parked the car and turned off the engine. Unbuckling her seatbelt her voice was soft but unfaltering as she faced him. "I haven't. It takes time. And maybe in time I will, but we both have a lot of baggage to work through and several or a hundred ridges to go over."

That made him think even further, and something in the back of his mind longed to be heard. It wasn't the fact that he longed for her always to be there, because she understood him for who he was. It wasn't that they were alike, no, they were vastly different which made at times, very interesting discussions.

"Why, were you thinking about talking to him?" She pressed gently, resting her hands in her lap. Adjusting, his hand hovered over to his seatbelt, the other rubbed over the back of his neck as he exhaled and proceeded to let the seatbelt click loose.

His expression contorted into an awkward look. "I've been thinking about it, but I don't think that I've quite gotten to that point of where I can. Frankly, I'm not even sure where he is. I got a postcard telling me that he had moved, but somehow the postcard got caught in a shredder."

Megan raised an eyebrow, almost laughing. "So tell me how does one accidentally get something caught in a shredder?"

Larry looked up at her contently, "Oh no, it was more like a shredder moment. You see I use to have a college roommate who was into aerodynamics. He was always constantly making airplanes and experimenting. He picked up the card mistaking it for something he could use, and sailed it out the window. Never could find it again."

"Have you ever tried just looking him up, like on the internet?"

A slight pause. "I never thought about that." He mused, shifting.

"You know someone once told me that just because you have a past doesn't mean that you can't have a future." She recalled with a smile. He caught the twinkling in her eye, the smile on her lips. He recognized those same words as what he had offered to her as comfort a few days ago. "Everything happens for a reason, it's your choice if you choose to take it." Looking at her watch, she looked up at the front doors of the school as a few teenagers sauntered out. "I think we came at the right time." Rechecking her watch, he opened his door and they both got out.

Rounding the car she interlaced her hand with his and walked side by side, grabbing a few looks along the way before they entered the building. Walking down the hall, along the way they ran into Parker Bennett.

"Back again I see." Parker smiled sweetly. "I knew you looked familiar when I first saw you. Those beautiful green eyes were something I've remembered all these years."

Megan smiled thoughtfully glancing towards the picture she had been looking earlier in the week. "Wait, Mrs. Bennett, my biology teacher?"

"Right. I'm actually a part time counselor now." She paused for a moment, smiling. "I know you. Megan Reeves. You're Milo's daughter." Megan nodded, watching Larry slowly walk over to the pictures lining the wall. As she peered down the hall, a few students trickled out. Some were going into the cafeteria, others leaving for lunch. "I'm assuming that you're here to see him. He should just be in his classroom. If you could excuse me." Megan gave a short nod and Parker went in pursuit of a student.

"She's interesting." Larry spoke without taking his eyes off of the picture as she stood beside him. "You know you were just as beautiful then as you are now?" He remarked, exhaling. His eyes meeting hers.

Megan was amazed, his eyes dancing with happiness. He absolutely loved her for who she was and that was something that she had always been missing. "I'm glad that you think so." She smiled happily, her hand wrapping around his and they admired the picture silently for another few minutes before making their way down the hall to her father's classroom.

He was as equally surprised when he saw her. Even more so when Larry followed behind her. His eyes following to her hand tightly wrapped around Larry's, her fingers interlacing with his. "There's somebody that I think that you should meet. Dad, this is Larry Fleinhardt."

Milo raised his eyebrow in surprise. "Larry Fleinhardt. Didn't you just recently come back from space?"

Larry was quite surprised, almost privileged. Megan however realized it was in her father's nature to keep updated on everything that went on in the world. In fact she was just glad that their first acquaintance was already starting on a high note. "Yes a few months back. It's a pleasure to finally meet you." They firmly shook hands, sitting in silence.

"You too. So I'm assuming that you're dating my daughter?"

Nodding, he looked down at her hand that was still interlaced with his. "Yes. I am." The door to the classroom opened and in walked a student who looked as if she had just walked in on a private moment.

"I'm sorry, I'll come back later." The teenage girl remarked and began backing towards the door. Megan gazed at her father with a raise of her eyebrow.

"No, Lindsey. Come in here for a moment." Milo gestured with a flick of hand. "Actually there's somebody that I would like you to meet." With that the young girl timidly stepped into the classroom. "Lindsey, this is my daughter Megan, and her boyfriend Larry." Gazing at the back of the picture of Megan when she was younger, the young girl raised her eyebrow from him to Megan.

"Hi." Lindsey offered, her eyes still darting from his back to hers. That's when she realized that the picture she had looked at so often was the same woman that was standing there today, right in front of her. And then she began to realize that her teacher had been telling the truth. She began to back towards the door. "Well it was nice meeting you. I just remembered that I have something that I have to do."

Milo gave her a fleeting concerned look as she disappeared from the room. Megan turned back to him, offering him an understanding glance. "So long have you been dating my daughter?"

Megan furrowed her brow at the closed door as a something slammed against a locker and a sob emerged from the hallway. Placing her hand on Larry's shoulder she gained both of their attention. "I'll be right back." Both men exchanged glances, as Larry nodded and she stepped out into the hall. Making her way down, she passed the young girl who was slumped against her locker. Her backpack looking like it had been thrown by frustration and was sitting a few feet from her.

Turning on the fountain, Megan grabbed a quick drink of cold water. Lindsey gazed up at her, almost looking dazed at she stared at the tiles in the hall. "You know he talks about you all the time."

Megan released her hand from the handle. "I'm assuming that you're talking about my father."

Lindsey nodded numbly, "I wasn't sure what he had meant when he said that he cared." Looking up she had a tear running down her cheek. "Now I think I can see why."

TBC...


	16. The Middle

Both sat in silence, again.

This gave Megan a chance to wonder what path she was going down. There was one way that made the corner of her lips turn up in a smile as they drove to the airport. And with that she found that he was always there… waiting, always willing to be there for him. He had given her father a chance…and so had she.

The other path, led her to no end. Would she come back from New York and find that everything had changed more than it had? To come back again and find that everything had gone on regardless as if she had been there or not? Blinking, she focused on the road in front of her. Instead her thoughts took sight on something she hadn't seen since she had returned from assignment…the concern on Don's face as her hand shook, the paleness in her face. David's recognition of her backing out, hardly saying a word and her departing quickly.

They would never know how deep inside that she wished that she could tell them, or how equally she felt that she couldn't. Not even Larry.

Her fear deep inside was that of what she had dealt with alone for the past few months since returning. Fears that were like nightmares— bits and pieces that jogged her memory of constant torture. Her mouth slacked, but she tried to not show the shock and fear still there because of the torture and the constant nightmares that kept her awake…screams that ensued because of it. Echoes of her own as she jolted in bed; remnant of cries of torture from her interrogation.

Whenever she heard screaming, she was taken right back there. Day after day, in a cold dark room as she sat bitterly, her chair turned backwards with her arms perched up on the backing with an adamant frown of persistence etched into her expression. Each individual that walked through that little dark room was changed, maybe even scarred. Just like her.

Don…David…Colby…Charlie….Amita…Larry, they would only see the half of it. But they wouldn't see the impatience…not the frustration….sadness, nor how every day that she stepped back into the office she felt ashamed of what she had been forced to do.

They just saw the odds and ends.

Exhaling softly, she focused on the road ahead, driving forward. From the corner of her eye she noticed him admiring the scenery.

"The buildings here are remarkably fascinating, with their height and physique." He paused; she smiled and turned her eyes back to the road. Pushing softly on the brake she looked up through the windshield towards a beautiful building.

"Looks like the building my father took my three sisters and me when I was about eight. In fact I'm pretty sure we drove him crazy." Moving her index finger in an up and down motion, she kept one eye on the light. "Running up and down the steps and chasing after one another, while he was trying to go over the finishing touches to what would make him a successful businessman."

He laughed, but scrutinized her expression. "Oh the days of childhood." He remarked quietly, turning towards her. "You know just like those buildings you're remarkable. I wish you could have seen the way you look when you were talking to Lindsey…you looked so comfortable, nothing that I've seen when you're at the office."

Megan exhaled as she pushed her fingers through her hair. Quietly she contemplated, noticing that things in the office had an underlying tenseness, even for its own good. "You know at times I wish I had never gone….that Colby had never been arrested, that the team wasn't falling apart, but it feels like it's out of my control."

He covered his hand over hers, gaining her attention. "I've never been good at something like this, but what happened was clearly not your fault. Whatever happened while you were gone, remember you saved a life."

He had a point. They had all saved Colby, despite his betrayal. But that still didn't kill the disappointment…sadness… anger.

Stifling another yawn, she realized that still despite making some amends with her father; she couldn't sleep without waking up several times, making her feel more worn than the day before. She just never imagined herself admitting it, to no one in particular.

Before she knew it they were parking in the short term lot and making their way around to the trunk of the car. He took out his suitcase and she closed the trunk after him and they strode side by side into the airport. Fortunately they had a few minutes to spend together.

"Find out anything interesting while talking to my father?" She asked with a small hesitant smile, their hands interlacing together as they walked.

"You've been thinking about this the whole time we were driving here?" He inquired, clearly amused. Actually, he knew her too well.

She gave a short nod. In the back of her mind the thought had always been there. And she had chosen to stay outside with Lindsey for an hour before Larry and her father had dismissed from their talking, and from her peeking through the window—her father and Larry had really hit it off."

"Yeah, there's something that I've needed to talk to you about that." Suddenly he became hesitant, his grip tightening. His tone underlined over the top of concern. She furrowed her eyebrow, trying not to look too conspicuous as they sat on a bench. "And I've been meaning to give you this, at the right time." He shrugged, "Well there really isn't a great time--" Tracing a faint smile on her lips she could tell that he was about to go off on a ramble, but then he trailed.

Her smile widened as her lips collided with his. He was equally stunned as she was… and somehow she knew in some fashion as they both straightened up and he undid his suitcase quickly with two echoed clicks. Reaching in he rustled through his suitcase, keeping it closed with his other hand, until he had closed his fist and pulled it out, grasping tightly to something in the process as he carefully locked his suitcase back up and turned stiffly towards her.

"I've been thinking….actually what I wanted to ask you if you would spend the rest of your life with me." His words came out more in a jumble, but he looked relieved at the sudden revelation.

Her eyes lit up, widened, her mouth crafting into a careful expression. Of course she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. Furrowing her brow, she went back to everything that he had told her, about their discussion of children and how she was so good with them. And then she realized the sacrifice, surging through him.

She searched him for a moment more, as long as she could. Her voice was soft, breaking. Barely audible. "Yes."

TBC...


	17. Learning To Fall

His mouth slacked, slightly. He couldn't say that she wasn't going to answer, but he was certain now that he had her closer. Taking in a deep breath he let his shoulders relax. Taking a deep breath herself, she realized her answer echoed back to her, _yes…_ "I would love to be with you." Her eyes flickered up towards him.

"I'm not saying you have to make a decision right now" He put in. "I wanted to… and ask if you'd accept being with me, eventually." Clarifying, he opened his hand to reveal a beautiful ring.

A silver band, engraved with their names. Larry. Megan. "Larry, it's beautiful." Taking the ring out of his hand, she admired it. "And what would make you think that I wouldn't want to marry you? Of course I would…you know I would."

He nodded, appreciation underlying in his tone, "How did the talk go?"

"There were the moments, but we talked and she got through one of the hardest parts—talking to someone."

"_You want to expand on that?" Megan inquired, walking the few steps and squatted in front of her until her eyes met Megan's. _

_Lindsey shook her head. "Not really." Her eyes darted back towards the tile on the floor then carefully leveled with hers again. "But then again it's better than talking to the school shrink."_

"_Careful about that… I'm in no way a shrink. I'm a psychological profiler."_

"_Oh I know" Lindsey put in quietly as she interlaced her hands together and letting her legs fall against the tile. "That's just what all the kids in the school call the counselors._

"That usually is." Larry nodded in agreement, seeing it many times in his own job, and when he helped out with the FBI.

"Yeah well, I think she's going to be alright. We talked quite a bit until the lunch period was over, and up to a few minutes before her next class started. And I feel this trip was sufficient to the apprehension."

_Megan shot her a sympathetic gaze before standing up, glancing over at the thrown backpack "Looks like you had one with the backpack."_

_Lindsey's head shot up as she glanced over at her abandoned backpack. She shook her head, almost blushing. "Oh…yeah." Getting up she retrieved the backpack and sat back down beside Megan. "You must do this a lot." _

_Megan shrugged, "I do, but it's not every day that you get to find somebody to relate to." She noted, gazing towards the door and back to Lindsey._

"_I know." Lindsey nodded her head almost sadly. "So is this why you decided to become a profiler?" Lindsey wondered, now setting her backpack beside her, as she wiped at her eyes._

"_Yes, and no." There was a twinge of sadness as well as regret on her pending decision, making it much more clearer to her that she was going back to LA and then perhaps all heck would break lose. "I do it because I like helping people, reading the emotions that some times others can't see." _

_Lindsey let out a patented smile. "Well whatever it was you just did, it worked. Not everybody has the magic touch." She paused for a moment. "But you do, don't you?" It wasn't an actual question, it was a statement. Curling her legs underneath her, she looked up at the clock on the wall, then back over to Megan._

"_What, magic touch?" Megan laughed. "I don't know if you would go as far to call it that...it's more like intuition." Lindsey immediately rolled her eyes up to the ceiling in a teasing manner in response, and shrugged, as she raised her eyes back to the clock._

_With a sigh, "It was really nice talking to someone I could relate too." Lindsey revealed back to earlier talk. "But I'm afraid it's almost time for Algebra class. Not to mention that it's clear across the school." She started to stand, brushing herself off. _

_Megan stood with her, brushing her hand across her pants, and found it about time to give regards for her and Larry to get to the airport in time. _

Larry checked his watch. Almost a half an hour had gone by and it was about time that he got situated before he got on the long plane ride home. Almost nine hours, to be exact. His flight was around one, so he calculated to be back home—well to Charlie's—by at least around ten.

Adjusting his carry on bag on his shoulder--filled with notebooks, papers, a few pens, that he had brought along--- he sighed, "Well my dear." He hated goodbyes, even if they were for a few days. He reached into his pocket and grabbed his plane ticket out so he was holding it in his hand. Together they stood—her admiring the ring, he turned and got on one knee. "I knew I'd have to do this before I couldn't stand it anymore. From the day that I met you I knew you were the one, so Megan Charlotte Reeves would you do the honors of marrying me? "

Megan felt a blush creep on her cheeks, and she couldn't help laughing in pure joy. All she could do was nod--and with that he softly took the ring from her grasp and shakily slipped the ring onto her finger.


	18. Sunrise Avenue

**I've been sick the last few days, so I'm so glad to have cranked out this chapter. Even if it is short.**

Everything was starting to sink in. Despite everything that went on this week, it had the perfect ending. And both knew it. They had both come out of this with a new meaning. His hand rested inside his pocket with his phone; he had never stopped thinking about his father since they had talked. She had a piece of paper with her father's phone number inside her jean pocket, the one her father had given her before they had departed to the airport.

If anything came sufficently out of their lives, both Megan and Larry knew their futures were just beginning. And although their own fears had come out and laid just inside the border, wounds were slowly beginning to heal. 

Larry closed the distance between them, clearly aware of people around them eyeing them. Some were smiling, prepared to almost watch from beginning to end. Others were passing quickly--a few annoyed. "I've been meaning to get that out for awhile now." Larry confessed with a shrug, a relieved expression washed over his features. 

She smiled, looping her hand tighly around his. "Do you feel better now that you did?" 

They began to walk slowly. A moment of contemplation, and he nodded. "As Blaise Pascal once said: Clarity of mind means clarity of passion too; this is why a great and clear mind loves ardently and sees distinctly what it loves." 

"I'm definitely liking what I'm seeing." Megan smirked slyly, as they stopped. "But I am wondering what brought all of this on?"

He shrugged with a soft smile. There was a part of her that wanted to spill right then and ther on how she didn't know for the first time if she was ready to go back. Comfortably he stuck his hands back into his pockets. "You've been the happiest that I've seen you in a long time after something considerably has been taken off your shoulders."

She looked away, just as an announcement overhead and a look over to the shortening line for his flight. He looked back up at her and she nodded her understanding and took the few steps over with him. "But I'm guessing our little rendevous is over." He cracked a confused but small smile as she glanced over at the last few remaining people in line. 

" It's back to paperwork and chalkboards; I'm afraid." He smiled as his lips gently colliding with hers as a goodbye greeting. 

"Then I'll be seeing you on Monday."She countered, mentally reminding herself to ask Don when she came back to what had possessed him to call her five times in the last week. Then she remembered the expression on Don and David's faces when she had backed away for the night. The lack of expression on her face was enough to make anybody concerned.

Just as long as she was intact, whether from lack of sleep or a long day, she had grown more in routine with it. In fact a little more then she had liked but it was something that she could lean herself on; take her troubles to since she had come back from assignment, and made her questionably design her own actions, but in disguise. As long as she still had control over those actions, she would take it to her advantage.

Larry expressed the same expression he had on his face earlier. "Whatever you're thinking will have to wait." Megan mused gently. "You have a flight to catch and if you miss it we'll both probably be stuck here." She raised her eyebrow and he turned to leave, but stopped. 

He raised a look, like if he were asking if it would be so bad if they did. Well okay, maybe not for them, but for the sake of Don or the team she would have to return to her place as if she had never left. And then it started to become a lot clearer to her; they would never let her leave without a fight, or an explanation.

Repeating the phrase again in her head, she sighed. _They would never let her leave without a fight or an explanation_. And with that she couldn't help fight the fact that if anybody knew what she had been doing on assignment she would seriously consider crawling into what one would call a deep hole.

Holding up his hand as he slowly backed his way into security, she knew he had changed her perspective on leaving the FBI. Briefly raising her own hand up in goodbye, she watched him look back several times as he went just beyond the gate and went through setting his things in a pink container and let it slide on the convyer belt. 

He turned to look back at her. The relief soared through his body as he watched the silver ring catch in the sunlight. His eyes caught hers briefly and she smiled as the thought in the back of his mind told him that he had made the right move. 

Waiting for his things to go through the x-ray took only a few minutes as moments later he was collecting everything back up, and with one more look and a wave he was out of sight. 


	19. He Said, She Said

**There are a lot of moments that I'm trying to write out and get through. Most of them will come to me eventually so bear with me please.**

* * *

Pushing a hand through her hair, she trailed back to the entrance of the airport. Suddenly the early mornings and sleepless nights were catching up to her somehow. Not surprising that it was. Feeling quite parshal to late nights at the office and taking a load of files home with her, that part felt absent as she had left it all behind when she had left LA.

When she had first started out she hadn't taken that many files home with her, but lately she had just been pushing it--knowing she was growing far worse in some ways than Don. Her thoughts before now had been tuned strategically to work, which caused more then one concern--far outgrowing the small voice in the back of her mind.

Her green eyes caught in the sunlight as she stood on the sidewalk waiting for a clearing. Walking across the crosswalk, keys in hand, she weaved betweeen parked cars until she had got to hers. With a sigh she gazed across the way toward the airport entrance before stepping in, the car slightly breezed with the shadowed parking lot.

Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her phone, the same amount of phone calls the last time that she had looked, were all there--including two messages. That being the fact that she hadn't turned on her phone after reaching New York and there wasn't another way that anybody was going to contact her.

With that thought, maybe she should try calling him back. Opening the phone, fingers pressing the speed dial on the keypad.

Wthin seconds he had picked up on the second ring, his underlining tone slighty catious.

"You do know that I have been trying to reach you all week." Don must have looked at his caller ID as she had half expected for him to say 'Eppes' .

"I have since the moment I turned my phone back on. What's up?" She asked, shoving her keys back into her pocket.

There was a slight pause on the other side. A brief movement and she heard Don converse with David. After another brief pause, Don came back. "We just got a lead on whereabouts of Lenni Demos, and a tip from a store manager that has both Lenni and Marcus together, just last night."

"And you think that either one of them has something to hide." Furrowing her brow, she dug out her keys and stuck them in the ignition.

"He's been pretty incommundo." Don filled her in. "Don't think he's said two words that didn't end in a lie."

"Who doesn't? Your best bet is roping him, and giving him a reason to slip." Starting the engine, she placed one hand on the steering wheel.

"That's what we were thinking also." He spoke for the other members on the team. "But we should know more later after holding him in interrogation. I'll call you in the morning with detail. What time are you flying out?"

"I have to bring the rental car back before I go to the airport, and my flight is at ten." She informed looking at her watch. "I just sent Larry off so he should be back at Charlie's around ten tonight."

"Good, we're just about to take off here so I'll call you some time tomorrow on the details."

"Okay Don?" She inquired as she gazed out the windshield as a thunderous noise of an airplane took off. "Around those known details do I also get to know what's eating you?"

_"Is it that obvious?"_ The door to the elevator opened with a ding and David stepped in. "Tell you what I'll call you later and then we can call it even."

"You know you've just set yourself up for a death trap." She informed him with a small chuckle. And with that she closed her phone.

He paused, then closed his own phone slowly before stepping into the elevator. David looked over at his boss as he pressed the button to the parking lot and let the steel doors close. "Was that Megan?"

Don nodded as the gravitational pull of the elevator leveled downwards. "She just dropped Larry off at the airport." David let a smile slip out as they waited in silence.

"I still can't see Megan being a New York gal." He commented to Don. The elevator slowed then picked up again as another beat of silence took to the grinding motion of the descending elevator. Don rubbed his hand just above his eyebrow and let out a puff of air that bought into the yeah-well-neither-can-I look that he expressed. Another lack of silence, and the slowing motion told both of them that they were about there. Although it seemed like a lot longer than they had really been in there, David decided to pull in the last word. This time it was on something that was tugging on him and he was pretty sure Don was mirroring the same thoughts. "You know when Megan left, it got me thinking." Don looked up at the younger agent, his own realization washing over his expression. The elevator opened and they walked across the parking lot to the issued SVU. They both stepped into the car and snapped on their seatbelts. "Have you talked to her lately?"

"To my knowledge she hasn't really been up for talking." Checking his mirrors Don put the keys in the ignition and started the engine.

David sat back in his seat and absently checked the other mirror as they slowly backed up. "That makes two of us."


	20. Lifeline

By the time Megan had returned back to the hotel, her mind was on the proposal that she had just accepted. Her fingers touched the edge of her lips where his lips had met hers, and she sat on the edge of the bed before pulling the pillow up against the wall and leaning against it for a moment before standing up again and walking over to her purse.

Hand reaching into her coat pocket she pulled out her father's number before wondering what she was doing. Unfortunately she was taken right to voicemail, but although she found her lips twitch in a smile she never thought that the sound of her father's voice could be so comforting, even if it was just a recording.

"It's Megan."Looking into the mirror was when she definitely found her reflection tired and worn. Rounded along the edges was an immense glow of happiness, satisfaction, excitement. In the middle of all that was where she looked tired and conflicted, where her voice faltered and softened, because once in her lifetime she didn't know where to start. "I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner." Her tone dropped in a softer tone.

This was the same man that she was going to; her father who she hadn't heard or spoken to in the last ten years, but they had now made contact. "Give me a call back when you get this message. I would greatly appreciate it." Her tone softened even more and she wondered what she was doing by calling him, and if it gave justice to the emotions running through her mind.

Tossing her phone back towards her purse, it lands on the desk with a thud. Rubbing her fingers through her hair she exhales and retreats to her bed as she places the pillow up against the wall. Her long legs hang over the side of the bed before letting them curl towards her body.

The longer she sits there, the more sleep begins to catch up with her. Her eyelids begin to droop, her head falls deeper into the pillow and she slowly drifts off, the only thing waking her almost five hours later was the sound of her phone ringing. Sitting up, she looked at the clock before standing up and making her way over to the desk.

As the phone snaps open, she exhales. "Reeves."

"This is your father. You end up falling asleep after taking Larry to the airport?" She raised her eyebrow, eyeing the clock from a distance.

Tossing herself out of the fog, she straightened. "I'm assuming you got my message?"

"I did, and I thought we could both do with a homier setting. Swing by the house at seven?" She took a moment to think about, her mind winding around memories of the house. Whether they were good or bad, she knew the home was a private place that would most likely calm the nerves, or ruin them.

Closing her eyes she reopened them being both relieved that they were not going out in public setting as her mind was full and all she wanted to bury her thoughts more fully at home--to wanting to return to that person that Larry saw in her but was hidden in plain sight and was somewhere she couldn't reach.

"A home cooked meal is probably what I need. If you're cooking that is."

"I most certaintly wouldn't miss it for the world and I seem to remember a certain little girl who loved lasagna." Megan cracked a smile, knowing that was her comfort food. Heaven knows she hadn't had it for so long, and it was a comfort to have.

"That sounds really good right now."

"I know." He smiled, confessing. "You remember how to get there?"

She swiped her hands through her hair, making her way to the bathroom. "The house is on the right-gated-long driveway. I think you're forgetting that I lived here for sixteen years." Megan commented, teasingly.

"A lot has changed since then Megan." He opened his mouth to say something but she knew this could possibly come to what was bugging her, or something about how much she had missed in the family. But a lot of her thoughts he wasn't cleared to know about, or how it had come to wreak havoc on her life, or how most possibly she didn't want to tell him or anybody for that matter the shame she held inside her.

"I know. I've got to get ready so I'll see you at seven." With that she closed her eyes, took in a deep breath and closed her phone.

That was close. Too close, she wondered how much longer she could dodge the bullets before she started really breaking. Exhaling, she ran her fingers through her hair which tossed it to the side. Her fingers edged the shower head on as it rained out drops of water. Her hand pulled on the shower curtain to shield her from getting wet. But that didn't stop the pressure from building inside of her as she delicately slipped out of her shirt, then her bra, pants, and undies.

As the mixture of air wrapped around her, she realized nothing was shielding her. Nobody was watching her as she stepped in the warm water that embraced her tired and worn body and nobody saw the tears that fell, one after the other. Nobody was watching.

Just as the water beat swiftly against her body, the tears came just as quickly down her cheeks. Her hand reached out to the side wall as her body wracked with sobs over and over as her hand grabbed the shampoo bottle, the he palm of other her hand resting against the tile, helping steady her as the sobs lightened up then grew heavy and caused her mind to focus on interrogation, feeling trapped and alone and so ashamed for being so ruthless, all over again.

Megan sobbed uncontrollably, letting her body slide down the wall. The water drizzled over her as if she had been lost in the middle of a rain storm and couldn't find her way back

Despite it, she was letting everything out.


	21. A Little's Enough

And soon enough the sobs slowly but surely died over the running water. She exhaled, brought herself to a standing position and let the water run over her face one last time before her hand fell over the knob. The water that had blocked out her sobbing was left by the few drops that fell down from the shower head into the tub and went down the drain.

Scrunching her dripping hair she stepped out onto a towel that had been placed as a mat, and wrapped another towel around her body while grabbing a fresh towel to run through her hair. Immediately she felt exhausted as she sat down against the edge of the tub.

The muscles in her jaw were tense, cheeks puffy, as she had exceeded her limit just letting it all out. Exhaling she stood up and edged the door open before walking out and getting out the essential makeup from the bag sitting in the corner between the mirror and the counter.

Grabbing the mascara, she runs her hands through her hair in partial nervousness gaining sight to her sullen reflection in the mirror. Her fingers unscrew the cap and she exhales bringing her other arm back to her side before steadying herself and applying the mascara to her lashes.

Then taking the towel that she had been using to dry her hair, she ran over it with one more swipe before she capped the mascara and began drying her hair which began to significantly dry and curl around the ends.

She continued for a few minutes before she could no longer ignore the throbbing of her head. Her fingers switched off the dryer, setting it down gently before she reached into her purse and popped a couple of advils out into the palm of her hand and quickly swallowed it down with a few washes from her water in the fridge.

Capping the bottle back up, she closed the fridge and went back over to the counter, both of her hands curling around the edge of the gray speckled counter top. Her knuckles turned white at the involuntary pressure of her fingers pressing against the cool wood. Her stomach twisted as she gave second thought, moving her purse aside as she took a pen and a journal she had gotten several years ago out--but had never been used--and began writing.

At first it felt slightly odd, writing her thoughts out. It wasn't something that she would usually do, and she had brought the journal along to express some of her thoughts of meeting her father again after ten years--just for the record she never did this, and writing now about the thoughts she was drowning in, felt even more important then writing about her father.

The journal had been given to her by her friend, after they had attended a group meeting. It was a blue leathered book that her friend had jokingly handed her after they had walked out of the building. The hour long meeting that they had sat next to eachother, both of them knew by the expression on the other face that they were never going back.

And they never did. But it hadn't been for the reason they expected. Instead Megan got a wake up call that changed her whole life when she walked into friend's apartment the following morning, having a key and all with a bad feeling in her gut, which only took one push of the door to see the one fatal shot to the back of her friend's head and made Megan feel like sinking to the ground.

After that time Megan had transferred from Ohio to Oklahoma then to LA in hopes of starting anew, hardly looking back. Since then she had no need to recall what she knew were not fond memories, until a few days after Colby's betrayal. Her mind swirled over if she was still capable of doing her job, the same feelings that had come over her after her friend's murder.

Here in Los Angeles she had discovered a part of herself, used the vegenance of her friend's murder to protect others, found the love of her life that she knew kept her from walking right out that door and instead found herself in his arms. Found friends she knew she would never get back if she walked away. Those being the importance of her continuing and pushing back those hidden emotions in stride that were now in fledge force testing her limits.

Exhaling, she finished writing and closed the journal with a thud. Standing up she pushed it deep back into her purse and continued to get ready, thoughts swarming as she applied the rest of her makeup and put on a suitable t-shirt and pants on.

Several minutes later she found herself standing in the middle of the driveway of her old house, taking in the sight as she walked up to the porch and slowly let her finger linger on the door bell. Finally pressing, it rang with one steady beat. Moments later the reflection of her father came into sight, the strong smell of lasagna wafting into her senses as he invited her into the house.

"Hope you came tonight with an appetite." He said in greeting, searching his daughter more clearly in the light and found himself wondering whether to put more concern into the sadness behind her smile, or how tired she had become. Which was even more obvious as the space between them had cleared some, even though he knew they were bound to step over the boundaries tonight. "Come and sit." He led her into the kitchen and she pulled out a chair to sit down in.

The table she noticed had been set with beatiful blue plates, a crystal wine glass. Immediately at that her gaze went from the table to her father. "You toss at that salad a little harder and it's all going to go flying." Megan broke at the silence, perspectively. Standing from the table, her heels clicked on the wood floor, his gaze hardly stirring. "Go and sit down."

It took a moment, but her reassuring gaze had him reluctantly giving into walking across the room and taking his place at the table. A part of him happy to let her take over, and he took comfort in knowing that it was a miracle that she was standing before him. As she tossed at the salad a few more times, he noticed she looked so comfortable in the kitchen. "I didn't know you cooked."

Megan glanced over at him putting down the wooden spoons down in the bowl, the timer going off as she placed her hand on the hot pad. "I think it's required pretty much when you leave home, and I do it whenever my job doesn't require me to be there."

Checking the lasagna to see if it was all the way cooked through, she found that it wasn't and put it back into the oven. "So you must be on your feet a lot." The oven door closed with a bang as she set the hot pads back onto the island in the center of the kitchen area.

Megan's expression faltered just enough for him to see he had hit that hard landing as she leaned against the island."It definitely has its perks." Her words trailed and she found her gaze falling to the fridge that was decorated in huge amounts of kid friendly pictures and scribbles. Rounding her way around the island, gently releasing one of the many colored pictures with her hand."

He couldn't miss the expression on his daughter's face as she held it up to him. "That was Rose's picture that she drew when she was two. She's three now."

She took another long look at her niece's picture before speaking again. "It's beautiful." There was another between them as the buzzer went off again. She turned to get the lasagna out of the oven as he got up from his seat and went to the living room to fetch a photo album.

He knew she had a right to see her nieces, nephews, and sisters, even if she wasn't ready to see them physically. She deserved in her own right to see who they had become, just like one day they would get to see who she was as a potential mother, sister, and aunt.

Setting the lasagna on the hot pads in the middle of the table, he returned to the room holding a red photo album. They both sat down as he inquired. "Here is a photo album of your nieces, nephews, and your sisters."Megan straightened at the mentioning of a photo album and he gladly handed it over. Absently she picked up her fork and stuck into her lasagna as she opened the cover page and quietly began looking through the first page of photos. "That's Rose." He mentioned as the quirk of her eyebrow and the protective smile on her expression as she looked through each page.

And with each page there was a photograph that she had never seen, and with each photograph there was a story, and the night fell later without a hitch. They went through dinner, cleaned up, and finished the last pages of the album.

Pretty soon after that it was time to go. "Take care of yourself, Megan." Her father offered before reluctantly letting her go and watched her drive back into the night.


	22. May It Be

"Charles" Larry called out in greeting as he walked in the front door. "What made you figure to start redecorating?" Pulling the key from the lock, he looked around. Besides the TV that was on in the entertainment area, the living room area had clearly been redecorated.

Setting his bags down, he heard the swinging door open and there was a brief stopping shuffle. "Larry I didn't hear you come in. How was your trip to New York? Charlie pointed towards the front door and wiped the condensation from his hands onto the napkin.

"Brilliantly exhilarating on so many levels." Larry caught his friend's eye as he ran a hand through his hair and looked around the room, a slight smirk in his expression.

Charlie set his glass of milk on a coaster in the middle of the two chairs. "On what level would this be?" He raised his hand to a level in the air.

Larry ran his fingers through his hair and exhaled. Charlie already knew the look on his friend's expression, the look of love. "It's truly the power of life and love." Charlie held up his hand in mid air; half smirk. But before he could get it out the door to the jingle of keys echoed behind the front door before it opened.

Don appeared in the door looking more then quite haggard as he had been the last few days since he had seen him. "Hey Charlie," He pulled his keys from the lock and took off his jacket.

Charlie took a step forward, his forehead creased in concern. "Hey Don, finally decided to make your way home I see."

"I didn't have much of a choice Dad was about to send out a raid, and I'm too tired to go home so I figured I could crash here tonight." Don draped his jacket over his arm, and stepped towards the landing, eyeing the silence. "Where is Dad anyway?"

"At a conference dinner, he should be home in another hour."Charlie answered as Don threw a nod his way and took a step up the stairs before stopping.

"Hey Charlie, did Dad mention anything to you about a dinner on Wednesday?" Don recalled from an earlier message on his phone that he had received a couple days ago from their father.

Larry looked around the room, realizing that Don hadn't noticed the change. Megan was right about worrying about her decision. Charlie rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, "While I was working on a theory for the Demos case earlier in the week."

Don leaned forward to take another few steps up the stairs before grunting his response, a slight groan emitting from the back of his throat. "And when did he come up with this?" He rolled his neck in both directions as if he could starve the headache that was making rounds into his pressured nerves.

Charlie checked his watch again. "It was the same day that dad called you. I was standing in the kitchen when he left the message."

"I've been busy Charlie."Don edged tiredly. His head was starting to throb now. "Do you think we could talk about this in the morning? It's been a long day and I'm starting to get a headache and I--I can't think."

"Fine--" There was a slight hurt in his voice as he gazed up at his brother holding his hands up in surrender to the subject, but Don didn't seem to notice. Charlie's expression darkened as he turned his attention over to Larry who had strayed across the room, marveling in the sudden changes and trying to act like he wasn't hearing the slight predicament of the two brothers. "Never mind." Charlie mumbled waving off his next thought and turned his back towards the stairs before he walked across the room.

He didn't see Don take a running glance back before running his fingers through his hair and making his way into his old room, closing the door as quietly as he could before loosening his tie and throwing it onto the bedside table beside the bed.

--

Megan ran the card through the door to her hotel room. It was late, but late wasn't anything to compare to the days that she found herself staring awake, being on a case or just unable to sleep to the pattern she was accustomed to.

Placing her purse on the desk, she started tidying up. Her thoughts strayed to the photo album her father showed her as she organized a few things back into her suitcase. Everything like before was going through her mind, but this time it was the photo album, her nieces, nephews, sisters, brother-in-laws. She realized that most of her nieces and nephews didn't even know her. In fact Megan was pretty sure that she didn't even know herself.

The ring on her finger proved her happiness was there. It symbolized a new piece of her life slowly connecting beyond the hurt--feeling lost. She loved him. He loved her. He held her up, and listened to her when she needed it. On her part she used wisdom to dig the deeper emotions of their relationship. And they had found something so sincere when they had felt like they had been beyond reach.

But for many years they had been running from their broken pasts, only to find unsettled feelings and emotions developing as they began their own. There were fears and battles that were bridging over at the continual movement of their lives and once again they stumbled to make meaning for the unceasing thoughts that waged keeping them together or in a moment something that could tear them apart.

And with that thought she finds herself across the room, her fingers lingering over the speed dial of her phone.

--

Not thinking to change into something more comfortable, there he lays on top of his covers--white dress shirt, black pants--the thought of his fingers absently picking at the buttons on his shirt, but his hands do not move an inch from his side. His eyelids flutter as his body sinks into the matress and darkness settles in.

His thoughts are scattered as he thinks about the last case. And somewhere in the back of his mind he is reminded that he has thrown caution to the wind but it just hasn't been realized yet.


	23. Change Your Mind

The last few chapters of ISH seem to be coming along slower than I imagined. Please excuse the large gaps in posting. At least three more chapters left.

* * *

"You've reached the voicemail of Don Eppes. Leave a message at the beep." There was a moment of silence and she exhaled in defeat before closing her phone. As much as the decision to leave was obvious, it could wait to be discussed tomorrow right? Megan placed her phone on the table beside her before pulling back the covers and slipping in.

She had been thinking about her decision quite often for the past few days. And she would have to make a trip back to the office anyway to retrieve a few things from her desk, and the chances of her sleeping tonight or tomorrow--like usual--was slim to none. And quite possibly she would run into Don.

Things were changing so quickly and she was making a decision that if leaving Don's team wasn't for the best, then neither was her future. She looked at the pictures of her nieces and nephews tonight and she realized she could smile at the idea that she was closer to having a husband. And before Larry, she had never been so sure about her future--until now.

Reaching over to the stand Megan picked up her phone. This time however she was dialing a different number.

--

"You know Charles" Larry began as he turned around to face his friend and colleague. "I sense more than a predicament here."

"I admit things have been a little tense this week." Charlie offered resting his hand to the side, then rubbing his hand across the back of his neck. "So you were saying about New York."

"New York was fascinating. It was as if I found a part of me that I never imagined was there." Larry's face was full of expression as his hands gestured, beckoning in a rainbow shape when he explained.

Charlie couldn't help but smirk as he took a drink of his milk. "I'm starting to think there's something more to this trip equation that you're not saying." At that Larry turned to study the picture on the wall again for a split second before turning back towards Charlie.

"Going back to the power of life and love theory Charles, and proposal of the love of your life-- some things have a way of going unknown and some don't." Larry offered studying the strokes of the paintbrush that created the lines on the painting. From the corner of his eyes he saw Charlie almost choke on the next swallow of milk, then watched as his mouth slacked slightly and wiped the milk off of his lips with the napkin.

"Are you telling me that you asked Megan to marry you on your trip to New York?" He took another swallow of milk and set it down on the table.

Larry pursed his lips thought before noticeably nodding and turning in his direction. "That is presumably correct."Charlie felt his jaw slack for a moment before the corners of his lips edged into a grin.

Charlie had to catch his thoughts as he took a step forward. "And she said yes?" Larry was about to nod when the phone started to ring. "Hold that thought."With that Charlie disappeared into the kitchen only to reappear a few minutes later with his hand over the speaker."It's Megan."

Handing over the phone, Larry put the receiver up to his ear as he trailed into the kitchen. "Megan--How was your evening?"

Megan smiled at the sound of his voice. "It was better than I expected. I ended up calling my father for dinner which I think was a bit of surprise for both of us. How was your flight back?"

Shrugging, he pursed his lips."It was nothing special. Actually I spent the majority of time thinking about you and our future together as well as what our pasts have held beyond the moon and the stars."

She smiled at his use of symbolism. "And some other things as well--don't think I haven't noticed your own sudden change in paradise. I want to know too what's going through your mind just as much as you want to know what's going through mine."

Larry gave a look as he nodded in confirmation and sat down on the couch before booting up the computer. "So if I can be honest here, what has been going through your mind since the factor of your father has most certaintly been eliminated?"

She looked up as her eyes caught the picture on the hotel wall. "A future with a husband and kids that I could love every day of my life." Taking in a deep breath, there was a short pause. "I keep arguing with myself if something like this was right--If this is what I could do had the opportunity been granted to me. And then I realize despite still being attached to my work, that moving on to this might be for the best."

"You're thinking about leaving." Inquiring, he sat back on the couch before typing the access password into the computer.

"I'm not just thinking about it." She summed up, running a hand through her hair. A wave of heat rushed passed by her and she stood up from the bed and adjusted the thermostat to bring in a cooler atmosphere. "And suddenly I'm not feeling so hot." Admitting out loud she walked back over to the other bed where he had been sleeping, and sat down promptly with her elbow propped up on the vent, cool air hit her face and neck relieving her temporarily from upcoming nausea. So she thought. "I'm going to have to call you back." With that she closed her phone and ran into the bathroom.

--

"A little help here would be nice." Alan called out to his youngest son promptly, while juggling a stack of papers in one hand and a briefcase in the other. He stumbled a little as Charlie got out of his chair. To which he gladly took half of the stack as Alan exhaled in relief and set the other stack of papers on the living room table and then the briefcase.

"I'm guessing the town meeting ended well." Charlie eyed the stack of papers on the table as he pressed his hand to the table.

"It most certaintly did." Alan brushed off, then pointed to the suitcase by the door. "I see that Larry got home safe and sound."

Charlie nodded before gesturing towards the garage as he subtly answered his father's questioning eyes. "He's in the garage taking up a phone call from Megan." Alan who had just begun to sift through a few pages off the stack, raised his eyebrows but didn't look up immediately, something on one of the pages catching his eye.

"Isn't she still in New York?" He inquired as his lips forming silent words as he read a line from the page.

Charlie nodded again before adding. "I do believe that she's coming back home tomorrow." Charlie stepped over to the stand in effort to clean up a little before his father noticed.

There was a slight pause, and Alan looked up abrubtly as he took off his glasses. "Good, then she'll make it home in time for dinner on Wednesday."

"About that--" Charlie began, picking up the napkin and glass from its place and headed towards the swinging door to the kitchen.

"Why am I getting the feeling that you're going to say something I am not going to want to hear--hmm?" Charlie shrugged as he decided that tonight he wasn't going to explain the whole argument between his brother and Megan--that one was going to blow up big time, he could just feel it if somebody didn't suddenly change their minds.--Or Larry and Megan suddenly engaged after their trip to New York.

But then again, maybe things were changing for the better--right?


	24. All The Things She Said

Tearing a piece of toilet paper off the roll Megan wiped her mouth and hastily threw it into the bowl before flushing and placed her hand against the wall as a ledger. Her first thought was that although the lasagna was delicious--it was no longer in her stomach. And maybe she shouldn't have had that second piece.

Opening the door to the bathroom, feet shuffling as she walked to the mirror--and found she did not look as terrible as she felt at the moment. Refraining from pushing back the razzled look on her expression she let her body lean up against the porcelain sink as she ran her hands through the water. Picking up the soap Megan lathered it in her hands before letting it fall back in the holder with a thud before rinsing. Then letting her fingers curl against the rounded sink, the water ran through the silence as she stole another quick glance in the mirror, only to find this time that all of color had drained from her cheeks.

Cupping her hands underneath the running water and splashed water on her face. By the time she had dried her face on the towel, the color began to return. Emptying her stomach seemed to have helped the constant nausea that she had been feeling on and off during the past week and didn't seem to bother her anymore as she gathered-- a few things here and there, while creating piles of sorts that would need to be packed in the morning.

Thankfully she hadn't brought very much, but living out of a hotel for the last week always brought scattered messes around. So first she gathered everything except from the sink area that she wouldn't be needing tomorrow--such as her hairbrush, hairdryer and pick. The minute she got home tomorrow she would take a long hot shower in the privacy of her own home. With that she began folding and organizing things here and there into her suitcase, with the constant thought of being back home. Next thought that crossed her mind was that it was late and she would have to leave the rest for tomorrow.

--

From the frame of the door, Charlie saw that Larry never shifted his eyes from the computer screen. His fingers never moved an inch and his Charlie studied his deamor--noticing from the expression on his friend's face that it was almost touching on a concerned gaze as continually stared at the screen.

With a rap of his knuckles on the door, Larry's head snapped in his direction, his brow heightening at the sound, his face softening at recognition. "Charles do come in." Larry beckoned softly in a comforting gesture.

Charlie stepped into the room. "I couldn't help but wonder if everything was good."

Larry pursed his lips in concern. "Your presumptions are mildly correct Charles." He paused but said nothing further as he sat with his back against the couch and read the content on the screen. His father's name, address, and phone number were staring him in the face.

Charlie furrowed his brow and stepped forward to see what had caught Larry's interest on the screen. His eyes scanned the page as he stood a few feet from Larry.

"That would be the current address, phone number and place of my father's wheeabouts." He answered the silent question as he sat forward on the couch, hand tucked underneath his chin.

Charlie peered at the screen again. From the corner of his eye it appeared as if his friend did not look so convinced for his own doing. "And your intentions for this visit?"

Larry stood tentatively as he clasped his hands together in thought. "I suppose it is for the fear of not knowing what could be or not at all."

"Yet you don't look so sure about all this." Charlie expounded on the subject of matter.

The corner Larry's lips quirked. "It is as if my life has moved in a circle and I'm just a complex mass of running wires that gives light and knowledge when connected."

Charlie looked up from his place on the couch. "That has also taken human form and has just chased after the woman of his dreams."

"Yet it is not my life that I worry about now." Running his fingers through hair, the lines in his forehead creased. "When I left home at such a young and vunerable age of my life I had this complete loss of being a mass failure. And when I entered into manhood and a relationship of great and everlasting joy, I fell away from all the loss and realized that I would put everything on the line."

"For the one you are willing to spend the rest of your life-- no matter what the cost may be." Larry nodded, taking his place back on the couch. "A concern--I'm betting that has to do with the level of her well being." He nodded again, but resumed gazing at the computer screen, reverting back to silence between them.

"I wish I could understand what was going through her mind. All the possibilities and opportunities she has next in mind as she moves on to bigger and better things."

"Megan is thinking about quiting?" Larry shrugged as he took a piece of paper and wrote down his father's phone number and address. He really had no intent on calling his father first before visiting.

"It is a possibility. But there are always times in which I wish I could take all the pain including in that possibility."

--

Megan looked at the alarm clock to her left. The numbers blaring at her through the darkness and she figured being asleep for a solid hour before waking. Despite having throwing out her dinner, her stomach didn't seem to resist now, because the last thing she needed now was to be the sick person on the plane.

Her thoughts spun as she closed her eyes tightly to the possibility of backing down from resignation. Was it possible that there was something better for her out there? Her green eyes stared up at the ceiling. If she transferred it would most possibly mean she would be pulled out of Los Angeles. If she chose to stay she would be able to be in the boundaries of what had always been known.


	25. Goodbye To You

Sitting up, Don adjusted as he threw back the covers and stood on his feet. Stretching his arms gently his gaze caught the time and not to mention the tie sitting haphazardly on the dresser. Exhaling and throwing his fingers through his tossled hair, he realized that he had only managed to get his tie off before crashing to sleep.

Although he no longer felt exhausted and no longer like a ghost on wheels, Don realized his shirt and tie could use an ironing--and him, well he could use a shower and a cup of coffee for the day he was about to go through.

Every day had seem longer than the next as they worked case after case, and although he felt more energized than last night or the days before he still felt those sleepless nights he had taken this past week. His hands worked to unbutton his shirt as he stepped into the bathroom. He was already imagining the hot water hitting against his tired body working against the knots that stood between him and being able to survive another long night.

--

Adjusting her bag over her shoulder, Megan strolled over to the waiting area of the airport and sat down. It had almost been an hour since she had checked out of the hotel and returned the rental car even by the looks of it she would only have another ten minutes before boarding the plane.

Her thoughts quickly reverted over to her relationship with Larry, which she knew had blossomed, while the relationship with her own father had been quietly adjusted to something rather neutral. Yet she still felt emotionally queasy-- not having to do with Larry, her mending relationship with her father, returning to LA, or even leaving, no there was something deeper.

Megan got a distinct feeling as she pulled out her phone, flipping through her contact list until she had gotten to the right one. Letting the phone dial, she let it ring until somebody answered on the other line. It would be safe enough if she burrowed through those fears, not letting them linger.

"You've reached Patricia Erickson. I am sorry that I missed your call. Please leave your name, number and message after the beep and I will get back to you as soon as possible."

"Patricia--this is Megan Reeves. If you have a moment could you give me a call back? I'd really appreciate it." With that she closed her phone and returned it back to its place. Her eyes gazed around the airport before she pulled a book from her bag. And she was in a page before her cell phone began ringing.

"This is Reeves."

"Megan--this is Patricia Erickson." Exhaling the woman shuffled her phone between her ear and shoulder. "You called just a few minutes ago regarding a question."

"United Flight Eighteen to Los Angeles, is now loading all passengers in Class B."

Looking up, Megan eyed the growing line as they checked in people on the plane. She still had a few minutes before she had to get on. "Not regarding any circumstances from work, I've been feeling completely worn down. I've been feeling naseous for part of last week and this week, with the exception of throwing my food out of my stomach last night. And I think I might have caught something that isn't going away. But my question--how long should I let this go on?"

"Before getting checked out?" She finished the sentence. "I'm assuming for one this sickness has been taking a big toll on you especially if you've been working and most of the time as woman we ignore the symptoms and hold them for thought that it's just the long shifts we work that we blame, when instead it could turn out to be something completely different and unexpected than we thought in the first place."

Megan nodded in agreement. "I don't usually call about these things--unless it happens to be for a sick coworker who I would love to chain to the fence to keep them from going into work."

That omitted a few laughs from both of them. "I get a lot of patients that act like that way as well. I understand that's their way of reasoning with people."

Standing up and slinging her bag over her shoulder, Megan couldn't help but smile. "For some people it is." Was it funny that she was thinking about Don in that regard?

"That is true. But I would have to say if the sickness hasn't gone away by now, you should probably get it checked out."

"I'll make sure to do that." Megan promised quickly, gazing out the window. The smile had long faded from her expression, only being replaced by a knot in her stomach.

A wary silence grounded between them, despite the background noise of the airport, and Patricia's kids playing happily in the background. "If you can I have an opening around three tomorrow."

"That would be great, thanks." At that moment her stomach wrenched at everything that she had eaten this morning.

If it was some small miracle Megan was called around with the rest of the surrounding people in the waiting area. "United Flight Eighteen to Los Angeles is now boarding Class C and all remaining passengers at this time."

With that Megan began heading in that direction. "Are you at the airport?" Patricia inquired.

Arriving at the check in, the man scanned her ticket and went onto the next passenger. "I've been in New York since Monday."

"I'm bet you're relieved to be coming home." Patricia teased lightly, remembering Megan probably wasn't feeling at her best at this moment, to which her next words were offered with concerned relief. "So I'll see you tommorow afternoon?"

"I plan on it."

Nine hours later, Megan landed safely in LA. Picking up her luggage from the baggage claim, she recalled where she had parked and took off towards home. She was exhausted and worn, yet a new peak of interest kept her mind reeling as her fingers gripped the steering wheel. The music on her radio took the edge of the background as she drove through the dark night of Los Angeles.

--

"Morning"

Alan stilled to the voice of his eldest son. Putting his paper down, he gazed over at Don who was quickly grabbing himself a pot of coffee. Frowning at his son's choice, he offered "I made pancakes." yet he was wondering when Don had put it through his mind to finally come home.

"Morning" Don called back after pouring himself a cup and taking a sip, ignoring his father insistence for pancakes.

"Just going on a hunch--what made you finally decide to come home?" He walked across the kitchen and pulled a plate of pancakes out of the fridge.

Don eyed the plate and its contents as he set his coffee onto the counter. "I was too tired, to go home last night and needed a place to crash." He took another sip as his father raised his eyebrow in question.

Alan lowered his gaze, giving his son a significant nod. "Now maybe you'll come around more often--perhaps to the dinner on Wednesday."

Finishing up his coffee quickly, Don put his cup in the sink. "Yeah, maybe. We've been getting some big cases lately. I'll see what I can do." The words escaped him as his cup echoed as he set it down. The look on Charlie's expression last night came rushing back to him which made him change his mind on the whole dinner scene. "I've got to get to work."

"Tread lightly." Alan warned--more like an afterthought--as he was not sure if his son had heard him.

--

By the time he had crossed traffic Don reached his building, quickly entering the building and just barely reaching the next load of the elevator. He nodded kindly to a middle aged woman who was among some of the people in the small space, his finger pushing the button to the floor, and sitting back as the gravitational pull guided them up.

In that time his forehead screwed up in thought. He had barely caught it, but his father had mentioned 'treading lightly'. What all this was supposed to be mean nudged deeply in the back of his mind and took his thoughts to another level.

His team, although mending was still on the edge. Megan had grown much more distant, even more keen in her work. David and Colby although having their differences, were much more pulled together then the team as a whole. And where am I? A voice in the back of his head inquired--almost broke into his reverie before he could think more about the team. He had been so tied into his own work that he had forgotten his own family, put cases before the friends he loved.

The door opened to the elevator as he stood there a moment before realizing this was his floor and he stepped out, pardoning to the distant chatter and conversations to which he gladly passed. He edged around cubicles until he had arrived in his section to which he found Colby perched on his own desk beside David. Megan was sitting on her desk across from them, just like old times; her hand flattening against a piece of paper.

Had this been what his father meant when he warned to tread lightly?

Pulling off his own jacket he draped it around his own chair. The team's conversation had died idly to a few spoken words. Don looked up to see Megan's green eyes gazing at him in wonderment. "You're back. How was your trip?"

"I am. And I brought you something you back." His eyes drifted to a New York coffee mug for Colby and a shirt for David.

Deciding to take a seat on his own desk, in the one moment it felt like old times. Her hand momentarily drifted from the paper as she turned back with a sack in her hand, holding it out to him. He took it and she was silent as he took it and peered in to find his own t-shirt. Smiling idly he took it out, unfolding it and holding it out, the t-shirt reading, 'New York's finest cop'

"I thought you'd like that." Slowly she edged off of her desk. Her purse came into view, which meant that she wasn't going to be here long. She turned and grabbed the paper slowly, pulling it towards her. At that moment Colby and David strayed into the breakroom, leaving both of them alone. They obviously knew something that he didn't. "I know you're not going to want this, but I want you to know that I've though a lot about this." Megan handed him the piece of paper to which he stared at it for a moment before gaining the courage to open it. But before he did, his fingers about to pull the page, her sudden movement of slinging her purse over her shoulder held his gaze for a moment before he went on opening the crisp piece of paper.

And written on that piece of paper was her resignation.

Suddenly everything came back to him. Charlie's pained expression, his father's warning, Colby and David retreating into the breakroom, probably still stealing glances here and there in their direction. Don folded the paper back up quickly without looking too much at it. He already knew the contents. "What are you going to do then if I hand this in?" Waving the paper slightly in his hand, he handed it back to her, but she continued to have her hands folded to her chest.

He exhaled already knowing this wasn't going to be easy convincing her to stay here. "Be a wife, a good future mother. I've been working so long that I didn't even realize what I was giving up." Megan took in a deep breath. This wasn't their usual conversation style. "I've thought about this a lot Don, and no matter how much I don't think I'm ready to do this, some times you have to take the plunge and say: I am ready. I will does this. And you know what, I would give up everything to know what I've worked for, what I've longed for so long is finally coming my way."

A tinge of guilt rang true, but a part of him didn't want to admit seeing his team slowly falling apart. "Okay, I get that. But just promise me that you'll take a little more time to think about this. I need you to wait. Please tell me that you'll wait two weeks and give another chance before resigning a great career and talent." She dug out her keys from her purse, gazing around the office. David and Colby were having their own coffee, partial oblivion to what was going on out here. "Look, you're one of the best people on this team, Megan. I would put my life on line for you, do anything if it made you happy--but right now I'm asking you a favor." She gazed into his eyes--wait.

There was something that she hadn't seen in awhile from him. "I promise to think about it." He nodded in dismisal and she began to walk towards the elevators.

"One more thing--" He called out to her. "My dad has this dinner on Wednesday--I think he would appreciate it if you were there."

There were tears in her eyes that told him she was tearing inside--and he had just made this decision ten times harder than it should of been. Still the tone of her voice was as calm as it had ever been before--something strong and encouraging. "I'll be there." Those words that left him standing there as she disappeared into the early morning.

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**I promised two more chapters, so here was one of them. I hope you have enjoyed the story. Unfortunately although this is the last chapter for ISH, as you're thinking I have one chapter to write which will be the preface (and the first chapter) for the sequel, "Wherever You Will Go". Enjoy the last chapter and be looking for the sequel coming to a screen near you. Okay, just had to throw that last part in. But thank you for everybody that has stuck out to the end (And especially to those who have commented :) Comments are an added bonus in my book.), and I hope you've enjoyed the story just as much as I've enjoyed writing it. **

**I'm quite sad to be letting it go, but I knew at one point that it one day would have to be finished. Besides being able to start a new story (the sequel!) you knew that I wouldn't just let Megan go like that, don't you? Now go on, enjoy the sequel! :D And have a wonderful day.**

**xoxo-EL**


	26. Preface for WYWG

**Here's the preface for ISH's Sequel, 'Wherever You Will Go'. A glimpse of what is to come.**

By the pending afternoon, the sun had already set high in the blue sky. The radio was blaring softly to an unfamiliar tune. Her green eyes shifted towards the car in front of her, not exactly focusing on anything in particular. And by the clock in her car she still had twenty minutes before promptly showing to her appointment.

The earlier ordeal was still surfacing, waving through her thoughts--almost as she were at a stand stil. Like the cars, they made small movements and weaves to go in the direction they needed to go, eventually ending up at their destination. Their exteriors being hit by rays of sun or rain as they moved gracefully through the streets and highways, just like person manuvering the car made choices in their own lives, being surrounded by happiness and trials.

Realizing that she had just compared cars to life, Megan peered into her back mirror finding the trailing amount of cars in back of her waiting in traffic. The corners of her lips quivered up into the saddest smile that she could manage as she had just followed Charlie's comparison methods in her own thoughts.With the cars moving slowly in front of her, she edged towards her destination with determination and as if this moment right here and now would beat the final strike.

Upon change to her life there would be no Charlie equations--no understanding except to her own equation. No coffee breaks, except in her own home. And no enigma for chasing subjects, using a badge, gun, all while wearing a dress shirt and pants. There would be no staying late, looking af files for a case while pulling an overnighter at the office. And no excuses not to go home at night because you know nobody but you will be there.

Her stomach dropped a level even though she knew she would have Larry now, but work would always be a part of her. And although there had been many instances where people, whether co-workers or students at the YMCA, Megan had heard often how they have divulged their thoughts on wishing she would teach there more than just a couple days a week.

Turning the wheel to the corner just up the street--the large building came into view. The stature of the building overlooked the downtown area of Los Angeles, standing out with it's white exterior against the blue sky. It had to have been awhile since she had been here, but then again--not much had changed.

Bypassing traffic was a relief as she made her way down the street and pulled into the hospital parking lot. Finding a spot relatively close to the hospital Megan parked, shut off the engine and leaned her head against the back of the seat, her keys still dangling partially from the ignition.

Gazing out the windshield at the rustling breeze outside, her hand caught against the key as she eased it back into the ignition and leaned back against the seat. She wondered what part of this made her so uncomfortable--what would be found or the results that might change her life in any way-- and the knock on her window pushed her thoughts as her gaze jolted in that direction, only to find Larry standing there waiting.

Opening the door to her car, Megan offered her best smile in greeting then pulled her keys out of the ignition. "Hey handsome--I thought you would be off helping Charlie." He strolled up close to the car and leaned his arm against the frame.

His gorgeous dimples showed as he smiled sweetly. "I guess you could say I was in the neighboring area, having a late afternoon lunch with Charles." Megan raised her eyebrow and leaned in to kiss his lips.

"And what did he say when you told him?" She smiled knowingly.

Larry lovingly took her hand and shrugged. "I think he was a tad mystified that I had beat him to the punch line." That eluded a laugh--their finger interlaced together and silence fell as they both glanced at the hospital. The unspoken questions lingered in the air.

"You really think he was counting on being first?" she smiled teasingly as they walked along the paved sidewalk, making their way towards the hospital entrance. He shrugged again, as they stopped by the benches and she took an ill swipe across her forehead with the back of her hand. For late afternoon, it was quite hot for the beginning of this March day."I think it was probably the element of surprise that really got him."

"With them I find it hard to predict. Charles is madly in love with Amita but I believe he is still trying to find the middle of his proposal equation."She raised her brow, a confident but uneasy smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

"I understand some of those things. But since you asked I've been wondering besides the factor of love, what makes one curious to do such a thing?" She prompted sitting down at the end of the bench. Her right hand patted the empty space beside her and he sat down.

The frame of his body straightened as he took in a deep breath. "It is solely for the connection inside that I never want to lose."

Megan blinked. Her predictions were correct. He didn't want to lose her, period. Yet he respected what she did and her decision of leaving her job and making changes would not make that connection any easier. The wind curled underneath her hair, blowing it outwards. _And if that connection were to skip forward just a bit, how would they fare then?_

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